


RIP, Jackson Gibbs

by Emerald1



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 73,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald1/pseuds/Emerald1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One is never prepared for the loss of a loved one.<br/>~unknown~</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, all of us will have a story to tell about the passing of Jackson Gibbs. This is mine. Future slash, but of the fade to black variety. (except for the last half of the last chapter, that's more fade to gray) We can fight, we can rail against death, but in the end, all we can do is to say goodbye. The loss of someone special impacts all of them, but two most of all.</p><p>We can fight, we can rail against death, but in the end, all we can do is to say goodbye.  The loss of someone special impacts all of them, but two most of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know, another new story. Since this one is absolutely haunting me, it's getting put in the rotation. On the upside, I've already cranked out 50,000+ words this year and it's only half way through February

 

 

RIP, Jackson Gibbs

 

One is never prepared for the loss of a loved one.

_~unknown~_

 

 

 

Gibbs was sitting on the sofa with his feet up as he thought about his weekly phone call to his father the night before. Jackson had seemed out of sorts, but Gibbs couldn't quite put his finger on the problem. Something about his nagging cough and dull responses had Gibbs' gut pinging. He considered taking a few days of emergency leave, but they were already down one agent, not to mention training a very new newbie and the current case was starting to heat up. Before he could come up with a solution, his cell phone rang, the caller ID showing the name of his absent agent.

 

_Hey, Boss._

 

"Hey, McGee, how's it going? You all ready to testify?" Through an odd quirk of fate McGee had become involved in a civilian case hundreds of miles away in Rochester, New York, when he'd cracked the encryption on a suspect's laptop. Forwarding the information had resulted in the rescue of a missing child and the arrest of her kidnapper over a year ago. Now the case was going to trial and to make the case solid, the DA had requested McGee's testimony and Vance had readily agreed. Of course they'd gotten a big break in their current case before McGee's plane had touched down in Rochester.

 

_Actually, they don't need me now. Dawes agreed to a plea bargain and the judge handed down the sentence about an hour ago just as the court was shutting down for the night._

 

Usually the agents hated to deal with court, but McGee actually sounded a little disappointed that he didn't get to explain to the jury what he'd done. "What kind of sentence did he get?"

 

_Twenty-five years before he's even eligible for parole._

 

"Probably for the best, that way the victim doesn't have to testify. So, you heading back or gonna take a few days there? Vance isn't expecting you back until Thursday." Gibbs wasn't surprised at the answer.

 

_I'm trying to head out now, but I can't get a flight out tonight. They're expecting a storm to hit later tonight or early tomorrow morning and it's supposed to be pretty bad. Something about the lake effect snow. I'm playing with the idea of renting a car. If I leave in the next hour or so, I should be able to stay ahead of the storm. Will the Agency reimburse me if I do that?_

 

"Sure they will." Mentally, Gibbs shrugged. He hadn't terrorized Fred from accounting for months, he was past due for a visit. Something else caught Gibbs' attention as he mentally reviewed the map. "Actually, McGee, if you do that, could you do me a favor?"

 

_Sure, Boss, anything._

 

"It'll probably add an hour or so to your trip, but would you stop in Stillwater and check on my dad? He didn't sound all that good the last time I talked to him." Gibbs felt guilty asking, but as soon as he said the words, he felt better.

 

_Of course. I'll definitely drive then and I'll be on the road as soon as I can get a rental car. Probably less than an hour._

 

"You be careful and, Tim... thanks." Gibbs closed his phone and leaned back on the sofa with a sigh. His father was a proud and stubborn man, but with any luck Tim's own stubbornness and earnest face would win out.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

In reality, it had taken until after 2300 before he could leave Rochester with a rental car. Timothy McGee had certainly driven in snow before but the addition of the lake effect was stunning and slightly terrifying. He was glad to get enough distance between himself and Lake Ontario for the storm to settle down to a normal blizzard. What should have only taken him four hours had ended up taking almost seven and a half.

 

The up side of all that was that he'd be arriving in Stillwater an hour before sunrise and after a long night of driving in the heavy snow, it wouldn't look odd for him to have made the detour, looking for a respite from the storm.

 

It was no surprise that the store was still closed that early in the morning, so Tim drove on to Jackson's house. The road was almost impassable by then and he leaned against the steering wheel in exhaustion as he was finally able to shut off the engine. He let himself have just a moment, then took a deep breath and opened the door.

 

Ice pellets mixed with large snow flakes pelted him as soon as the door opened and Tim tugged his coat tighter as he climbed out and grabbed his bag. A light was on in what Tim remembered was the kitchen and he saw movement, so he knew Jackson was up. Sure enough, as he stepped onto the front porch, the curtain moved so Tim called out. "Mr. Gibbs, it's Timothy McGee. I was hoping I could crash here for a few hours and wait out the storm."

 

Jackson opened the door. "Tim? What on Earth are you doing here? Come on, get in here before that wind blows you away."

 

"Thanks." Tim pushed the door closed behind him before explaining, keeping to the truth as much as possible. "I couldn't get a flight out of Rochester, so I rented a car to get back to DC."

 

"Thought you could beat the storm?"

 

"Yeah. Never driven in that lake effect snow before." He shook off as much snow as he could and left his coat and bag by the front door.

 

Jackson still looked suspicious, so Tim tried to look as tired and pitiful as possible, which actually wasn't that hard under the circumstances. "So what were you doing that far North?"

 

"I was supposed to testify in a kidnapping case, but the perp finally took a plea bargain." They'd walked into the kitchen and Tim gratefully took the cup of coffee Jackson handed him, wrapping his fingers around the mug to warm them up.

 

"The Dawes case? Didn't think NCIS was involved in that one."

 

Tim was surprised at first, but then he remembered that Jackson was almost obsessive about watching the news and keeping up with current events. Stillwater was a small town, but cable news was cable news no matter where you were watching from.

 

"We weren't, but a suspect in one of our cases was sharing pictures of little girls with Dawes so I started tracking both of their movements. Our suspect dabbled in kiddy porn, but Dawes was a little more hands on. He sent a message to our suspect about having a new little girl soon and I tracked him down."

 

"Shouldn't you have turned it all over to the police up there?"

 

"Had to get a location first, then I did." As Tim talked about the case, he carefully watched Jackson. Gibbs was right, something was definitely off. There was a gray cast to his skin tone and he seemed somewhat out of breath in addition to a slight cough. "Mr. Gibbs, what's wrong? You don't seem well."

 

Jackson tried to sip up as straight as possible. "I'm just not as young as I used to be, that's all."

 

"I'll call Gibbs."

 

"No, no, don't bother Leroy. I don't want to be a bother to him."

 

"You're not a bother, you're his father. Who do you think he asked to track down Walter Beck for you? Of course that was when he thought Mr. Beck was in your squadron."

 

They both laughed at that before Tim made his offer. "Maybe you should see someone, get checked out. Why don't you make an appointment to see your doctor today or tomorrow and I'll watch the store for you?"

 

"I already saw Doc Henry." Tim didn't say anything, just stared at him and Jackson found himself telling the rest with a sigh. "He wants me to go see some fancy specialist in Allentown."

 

"Who's the doctor? I'll make the call and drive you down there."

 

"Now, you don't need to trouble yourself with me. I'll be fine."

 

Tim stared at him for a moment. "Either I can take you or I'll call Gibbs and he can come up and take you."

 

Jackson crossed his arms over his chest. "You're as stubborn as he is, do you know that?"

 

Deliberately misunderstanding the question, Tim smiled. "Thank you."

 

He hadn't meant it as a compliment, but Jackson just shook his head, giving up. "Fine, but you've been driving all night. You need to get some shut-eye if we're going anywhere."

 

"Agreed." Tim didn't need anyone to tell him he was close to the end of his endurance. "If it's all right with you, I'll crash on the sofa for a couple of hours, then I'll call the doctor's office when they open up."

 

"There's a perfectly good guest room upstairs. Or, you could get that DiNozzo character all in a tizzy by sleeping in Leroy's old room." There was a twinkle in Jackson's eye before he started coughing again.

 

Tim smiled at the joke even as he listened carefully to Jackson's cough. "If I go upstairs to sleep, what are you going to be doing? You're not going to try to shovel the walkway are you?"

 

"You'll tattle on me if I do. Nah, I'll stretch out and read for a while, maybe go back to sleep."

 

Picking up his bag, Tim climbed to his feet. "All right, I'll see you about nine, then."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The upstairs was cold and Tim remembered Jackson mentioning that he didn't turn the heat up very high on the second floor since he never went up there. A small, portable heater was on the dresser and Tim thought about turning it on, but decided to just use the electric blanket. He turned it on to warm up before setting his alarm for 0830. That would give him time to give Gibbs an update privately before he called Jackson's doctor.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs had been up at daybreak, listening to the morning news. The expected storm had hit western New York earlier and harder than anticipated, so he hoped that McGee had gotten out of there in time. Just as he was debating whether or not to call, his phone rang and Gibbs quickly answered it.

 

"Hey, where are you? Been watching the weather reports and it looks pretty bad out there."

 

_Yeah, it took me over seven hours of driving time to get to Stillwater and that was after hours of fighting to get a rental car. They didn't want any of their cars out on the road in this._

 

Gibbs gave a low whistle. "Damn, McGee, I didn't know I was getting you into such a mess."

 

_It's okay, Boss. You were right, he's not doing too well. His doctor wants him to see a specialist down in Allentown. He's been putting it off, so I'm going to call for him as soon as the office opens at nine. I told him that I'd drive him down there and wouldn't take no for an answer._

 

"I bet he loved that."

 

_Said I was as stubborn as you, quit arguing when I thanked him._

 

That got a laugh out of Gibbs before he turned serious. "Thanks, Tim. I really do appreciate this."

 

_He's important to me, too, Gibbs. I'll call you back as soon as I've got the appointment set up._

 

"I'll be waiting." This was one of the rare times that Gibbs was slow in closing his phone. Even over the old phone line at his father's house he could hear how tired McGee was. Deciding to drive up, himself, Gibbs refilled his coffee cup and went back upstairs to finish getting dressed. He'd meet them at the doctor's office and let McGee get home and rest.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

After talking to Gibbs, Tim went downstairs. Jackson was still asleep, but Tim found a business card from the only doctor in town, a Dr. Henry Ward. On the back, in someone else's handwriting, was the name of another doctor and a phone number. Since it wasn't Jackson's writing, he assumed it was Dr. Ward's. A quick check online identified Dr. James Michael Crawford as the Head of Cardiology at Lehigh Valley Hospital.

 

Just to be sure, Tim called Dr. Ward's office first. Eventually the call was picked up by his service that informed McGee that Dr. Ward was currently snowed in Williamsport and probably wouldn't be able to get back to Stillwater until sometime the next day. Tim thanked the woman and ended the call. He'd hoped to get more information about what Jackson needed, but he'd go with what he could find out on his own.

 

At 0901, he was back upstairs and on the phone with Dr. Crawford's receptionist. After explaining the situation and his worry, he asked for the first possible appointment. The receptionist seemed to understand and he happily waited while she put him on hold to find a spot.

 

_Mr. McGee, we had a patient cancel his appointment for tomorrow, probably because of the weather. Would that work?_

 

If it hadn't, he would have made it work. "Yes, absolutely. What time?"

 

_Three o'clock._

 

"We'll be there. Thank you so very much." As soon as the call was complete, Tim dialed Gibbs again. "Hey, Boss, I got him set up with an appointment."

 

_That's great, when?_

 

"Tomorrow afternoon at 1500. They had a cancellation, so I was able to get him in now. Otherwise, he would have had to wait a couple of weeks.

 

_Good. That's real good, Tim. All right, I'll let Vance know that Tony has the case as of tomorrow morning and arrange for a TAD to help him and Bishop so I can drive up and meet you and Dad, see what this doctor says._

 

McGee breathed a sigh of relief. As fond as he was of Jackson, he'd been afraid that he'd be asked to make decisions best left to family. "That's great, Boss. I'll send all the information to your phone."

 

_See you tomorrow, McGee._

 

Once the call ended, Tim went back downstairs. Jackson was in the kitchen, cutting up some meat. The older man didn't even look up. "You know, those fancy doctors usually make you wait weeks or months for a damned appointment."

 

"Tomorrow, three o'clock."

 

Jackson chuckled and shook his head. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"

 

"Nope.

 

"Fine."

 

"And just think, you get to spend the morning watching a city boy shovel snow. Folks expecting the store to be open this morning?"

 

Nah, not until the plows come through. Stillwater's the last one on the list."

 

"Joys of small town living?"

 

Turning so that McGee couldn't clearly see him, Jackson rubbed at his chest. "Don't you know it."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs had just been walking into the bullpen when his phone rang. After talking to McGee, he turned to go upstairs and found Vance standing behind him.

 

"Was that McGee? My understanding is that the trial is already over. He notified personnel that he was taking a few days of personal leave so I am assuming that you authorized it."

 

Of course McGee would have already updated the personnel office. "I did, but I want it to come out of my leave, not his. He stopped to check up on my dad and now he's staying to take Jackson to a doctor tomorrow."

 

"HR doesn't work that way, Gibbs." Vance held up his hand before Gibbs could argue with him. "However, you can donate any number of hours of your leave to his account."

 

To the team leader, that sounded like the same thing, but he'd never had the patience for those sorts of regulations. "Fine, I'll take care of it. He also rented a car so he could get out of Rochester before the storm hit. That will be covered, right?"

 

He could argue, but it really wasn't worth it. Gibbs would just go terrorize Fred in Accounting and a car rental for several days probably wasn't much more expensive than the airline ticket would have been. "Yes, we'll reimburse him for the car. Did I hear that you are going up to meet them?"

 

"Yeah." Gibbs rubbed at the sides of his face. It was barely the start of the work day and he was already wiped. "The town doctor is sending my dad to a specialist almost two hours away, sounds pretty serious. Probably going to have to have some decisions made. Tony can handle the case and he needs the experience of running point without me hanging over his shoulder."

 

"Good enough. I'll have a TAD for him in the morning. Do you want him to have Dorneget or Adams?"

 

Gibbs didn't really have to think about it. Dorneget was a good agent, but lacked enough field experience to adequately back up DiNozzo and Bishop if things heated up, especially considering how green Bishop still was. "Adams."

 

"Done. In fact, I'll see if I can get him in here this afternoon so he can get caught up on the case."

 

"Appreciate it, Leon." Gibbs gave a short nod and continued on to his desk, barking orders to DiNozzo and Bishop as they came off the elevator. Vance watched him for a moment before turning toward the stairs. Gibbs was a rock, but this was his father they were talking about. He hoped things weren't going to get too bad, too soon, for the elderly man.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim enjoyed the breakfast Jackson had fixed for both of them before he stood. "Where's your snow shovel? I'll get started on the walk and the driveway."

 

"You don't have to do that."

 

"The snow is past the bottom on my car doors. I think it's going to take some work to get it out and it's not going to melt before tomorrow."

 

"We could reschedule the appointment." Jackson had a hopeful look on his face and Tim just shook his head. He wasn't going to let him put this off for another couple of weeks.

 

"Shovel?"

 

Now he was getting the glare that was so familiar, even if it was an older version. "Back porch, and wear my coat so you don't freeze to death out there. There's gloves in the pockets."

 

"Thank you."

 

His own outerwear wasn't nearly warm enough for this weather, but he hadn't expected to be anywhere other than a heated building or an airplane. Jackson's old coat was heavy, but it was warm and plenty big. The gloves were a little less successful as Tim's fingers were quite a bit longer than Jackson's and the thick, padded leather didn't stretch. Rather than argue with Jackson, he slipped them on but planned on swapping out to his own gloves once he was outside.

 

Tim went out the back door and found the snow shovel before tromping through the snow to the front of the house. He started at the front porch steps, scraping and moving the snow off to the side. Being an apartment dweller all his adult life it had been many years since he'd shoveled snow and he'd never dealt with it quite this deep. As he worked he hoped that the plows would reach Stillwater by morning or it was going to be a long and difficult drive getting back out to the main highways.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony bounced to his feet as he hung up his phone. "Got something. A warehouse out in Manassas that's leased to our mysterious shell company. Dorneget is meeting us there with a warrant."

 

"Good." Gibbs shoved his SIG into his holster as he stood. He'd feel a lot better if they could break this case open before he left in the morning. The question of why Dorneget and not Adams was on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembered that Adams wouldn't be there until later in the day. Not everyone could drive up from Norfolk as quickly as Gibbs.

 

Remembering where the other man was coming from, Gibbs grabbed his cell phone and quickly dialed Vance as they loaded into the elevator. "Dorneget is meeting us with a warrant. Have Adams go straight there, okay? Thanks."

 

Tony gave him a funny look as he ended the call. "I know we're short McGee, but if we've already got Dorney meeting us, do we really need Adams?"

 

Gibbs hadn't said anything about being gone tomorrow. "It's a warehouse, DiNozzo. Do you really want us to go through a couple of thousand boxes by ourselves?"

 

"Good point, Boss."

 

"Thought so." Gibbs glanced over at Bishop to see if she had anything to add. When she remained silent, he led them out to the car.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The snow was even deeper and heavier than he'd been expecting and within just a few minutes Tim was sweating in his borrowed heavy coat, even though his hands were freezing. He considered putting the thick leather gloves back on, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to hang onto the handle of the shovel with his fingers so bound up.

 

Eventually he found his rhythm, even managing a furtive glance at Jackson through the front window every time he tossed a shovelful of snow to the side. Tim was about halfway to the driveway when Jackson disappeared from view. It took a second to register with Tim before he dropped the shovel and started toward the door, trying to come up with an excuse to explain why he was dashing in the house with so much work left to do.

 

Any story he could come up with about needing coffee vanished when he went inside and found Jackson on the floor, not moving.

 

"Jack? Oh, my God, Jackson!"

 

Tim rounded the sofa, dropping to his hands and knees next to the prone figure as he tugged off his icy gloves. Frantically, he felt for a pulse, rubbing his hands together and trying for a second time. "Come on, come on."

 

He still couldn't find a pulse and he rolled Jackson onto his back. The elderly man was limp, his eyes closed. Tim had to raise back up onto his knees to get his phone out of his pocket. Dialing 911 and then hitting the speaker button, he dropped it onto the floor as he started CPR.

 

_911, police, fire or medical?_

 

"Medical, I need a bus, I think he's had a heart attack."

 

_You're calling from a cell phone, sir. I need an address._

 

Tim looked around frantically as he continued chest compressions. He'd driven here by memory one he'd reached Stillwater and didn't have a clue what the street address was. Jackson had knocked over a small table when he fell and there were several pieces of mail on the floor. He reached out and grabbed one before resuming compressions. After reading off the address, he resumed CPR, bending down to breathe for Jackson.

 

_Is someone giving the victim CPR?_

 

"I am." Tim knew her questions were procedure, but he was already panting from the exertion.

 

_Are you alone with the victim?_

 

"Yes! Three... four... five..." A drop of sweat ran into his eye, stinging and blurring his vision. "How soon?"

 

_ETA on the ambulance is fifteen minutes, sir. Local officers have been notified._

 

He needed someone to help with the CPR. "Are they coming?"

 

_ETA unknown, sir._

 

He felt the first flicker of panic. "Damn it, we need help now." Muffled voices could be heard over the speaker. He knew that the emergency dispatch service in the area was actually a combined, three county effort, but he had no idea where the dispatch office was. Obviously not in Stillwater, not with a population of less than 200, as the entire police department would have fit in Jackson's living room. Eventually, the dispatcher came back on the line.

 

_We're checking, sir._

 

Another ten rounds of compressions and breathing. Tim was straining to hear the sounds of the approaching ambulance, but all he could hear was a pounding in his ears. Finally, another voice came on the line, male and older sounding.

 

_All right, son, how you doing? My name is Daniel and we're going to get you through this. Now, what's your name._

 

"Tim, I'm Tim. We need help." Water was landing on his hands as he pressed down again and again. He didn't know where it was coming from, but when he tilted Jackson's head back to give him another breath, it was salty as it dribbled down onto his lips.

 

_We know, son. Sheriff Gantry is on his way, but he's way out on the north side of town, almost to Maple Grove. It's going to take him a while to get through the snow. One of his deputies is trying to get back from Waterton. They're the only two on duty today, Tim._

 

Tim didn't waste his breath answering, just concentrated on trying to keep Jackson alive. His world narrowed down to his count, the chest compressions, the air he was forcing into Jackson's lungs and the clock on the corner of his phone.

 

Twelve minutes. Breathe, one... two... three...

 

Seventeen minutes. One hundred compressions a minute, his arms were starting to burn.

 

Twenty minutes. Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty... breathe.

 

"Where's the damn ambulance?"

 

_We're trying to raise them now, Tim. Hold on._

 

He heard muted sounds over the phone, then a muffled angry shout. "What? What's happening? How much longer?"

 

_The ambulance went off the road and rolled. We're going to try to..._

 

"No! He needs help now. How long for another ambulance?"

 

_There's been a multi-car pile up on Interstate Eighty. All the other ambulances in the area are there, but we're trying to reroute one now. Just stay calm, Tim, you're doing fine._

 

"He's not! Please..." Starting to feel dizzy, Tim closed his eyes for a moment. "You have to help us."

 

_You're inside the house? Can you see anyone outside? Do you know any of the neighbors?_

 

The snow had been steadily picking up, there weren't even any children playing outside. "No, no one. I... I don't live here, I don't even know who to find."

 

_Okay, Tim, I'm going to try and get the Sheriff on another line. Just hang on._

 

"Yeah, sure." He was queasy, but kept going, counting out loud to keep the numbers straight in his head. He'd done another twelve rounds of compressions when Daniel came back on the line.

 

Sheriff's close, Tim. He'll be there in a few minutes. Listen for his siren. Tell me when you hear it.

 

"Yeah, okay." Thirty compressions, two breaths. Thirty compressions, two breaths. Even the clock on his phone dropped off his radar as his world narrowed down. Thirty compressions, two breaths. Finally a sound. "I hear it, I hear a siren."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Sheriff Ed Gantry had just finished helping round up a load of goats from an overturned truck when he got a call from dispatch.

 

"This is Gantry, go."

 

_Sheriff, we've got a report of a man down, probable heart attack, in Stillwater._

 

The downside of a small town was that if things went bad, it was usually personal. "Damn it, what's the address?" The dispatcher rattled off the address and Ed but back a curse as he eased his department pickup truck around the accident. "That's Jackson Gibbs' place. How bad?"

 

_Full arrest. Witness is performing CPR, but..._

 

"Yeah. Okay, I'm on my way." It was on days like this that Gantry was glad he'd been able to talk the county into investing in a truck. Heavy duty, four wheel drive with chains on all four wheels. Adding a couple of hundred pounds of steel panels in the bed of the truck had given it enough weight to get through just about anything.

 

_Got an ETA for me?_

 

Gantry sped up a bit and immediately slid. He struggled for a moment and got it back under control. "Nope."

 

It took way too long to get back into town, but he radioed in as he saw the first house through the curtain of snow. "I'm hitting the city limits. Give me a status report on the heart attack victim. Has he been stabilized and transported yet?"

 

_Negative. Ambulance crashed on the way. Witness is still performing CPR._

 

After this length of time, the chances weren't good. "Dan..."

 

_I know, Ed. I'm sorry. Make sure you're running lights and sirens, let the witness know help's coming._

 

Gantry flipped the switches on his dashboard, the lights reflecting all around him from the snow. He'd been trained but had never had to use CPR in actual real life. Trying to remember who else in town had first aid training, he had to ask. "Who's with him?"

 

_Witness gave his name as Tim. Calling from an out of state cell phone._

 

"Got it." Gantry hoped it was just some stranger that had found him and not some friend of Jackson's. Not that he'd wish this on anyone. Now that he was in town, the road was straight and flat and he was able to pick up speed a little as he drove down the middle of the deserted street. The houses were spread out, but close enough that his siren attracted attention and he saw some curtains open as he drove by.

 

Time seemed to crawl, but eventually he was in front of the Gibbs' house. Dreading what he was going to find, he grabbed his hat and climbed out of the cab. The door was open a crack and he called out as he ran up the partially cleared walkway. "It's Sheriff Gantry."

 

"Here, in here."

 

The voice sounded exhausted and slightly familiar. Gantry stepped around the corner and found Jackson Gibbs on the ground, a figure hunched over him, performing CPR. When he looked up, Gantry realized who he was. "You're one of Jethro's agents."

 

His face was bright red from exertion and sweat and tears were on his face.

 

"Yeah, where's the ambulance." Tim bent down to breathe again for Jackson and Gantry grabbed his radio.

 

"You got us an ambulance yet, Dan?"

 

_Not that I can pull._

 

It wasn't said, but Gantry knew that the time had already passed for a good ending to this. Next to him, McGee was refusing to give up. "What about a chopper?"

 

"Not in this storm, kid. It's over, you did your best." Gantry touched his shoulder, hoping to pull him away, but Tim just shook him off and kept working.

 

"No, only a doctor can call it. We have to get him to the hospital."

 

Footsteps could be heard stomping up the porch and Gantry looked up. It was Carla Conners, from down the street. She'd lost her own husband to a heart attack while on vacation only weeks after he'd retired from the mines. He knew she was reliving the memory as she watched McGee's frantic efforts and Gantry made a decision. "Carla, open the back of my truck and get the canvas that's rolled up in there. We're going to use it as a sling to carry Jackson out. We'll use my truck to get him to the hospital."

 

Gantry shook his head as he thumbed his radio and contacted Dan in dispatch. "Dan, we're taking him to the hospital in my truck. Advise Berwick we're inbound."

 

_State's on the verge of closing the highway down, Ed. After this long..._

 

Sometimes it was more complicated than that. "Agent McGee is right, it's a doctor's call. Let them know."

 

_Understood._

 

Carla returned with the canvas Ed kept in case he had to crawl under the truck. It was still damp from when he'd put the chains on the truck, but it would do.

 

With Carla helping, they rolled Jackson. Tim stopped only long enough for that to be accomplished. Once the tarp was under him, they rolled him back and waited while Tim performed another two rounds of compressions. Once that was done, Ed and Tim lifted Jackson, using the heavy canvas as a makeshift gurney. It worked and they quickly moved to the truck.

 

Tim staggered when he got to his feet, but forced himself to keep going. He jumped in the back of the truck and finished pulling Jackson inside. A group of children were gathering and one of the teenagers quickly ushered them back into a nearby house. Carla hesitated, but she didn't know CPR and failing vision left her unable to drive in near whiteout conditions.

 

Gantry remembered the anger and frustrations when Carla's eyesight forced her early retirement from teaching. "It's okay, Carla, we've got this." He closed the tailgate on the truck bed before closing the back gate on the camper shell that covered it. Once behind the wheel, Gantry leaned over his shoulder to talk to Tim through the back window. "Brace yourself, it's going to be a rough ride."

 

Tim didn't answer him, already back in his rhythm and praying that the thirty seconds he lost while they moved him wouldn't be the straw that broke the camel's back.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ellie blinked and turned to Tony as Gibbs growled his announcement and kicked the small door open hard enough that the door knob left a dent in the wall. "Is he always this intense for a search warrant?"

 

Tony's ears were already ringing from when Gibbs didn't think he was moving fast enough. "Umm, no, but we're not going to anything to distract him, okay?"

 

She nodded, as did Dorneget from the other side of him.

 

"Okay, let's do this." One by one, guns drawn, they entered the warehouse and spread out. If any of their suspects were there, DiNozzo almost felt sorry for them.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Hang on." Gantry felt the back of the truck start to slide when they were half way over the small bridge. He corrected and sent up a prayer that the wheels would catch. Eventually they did, but not before the back corner of the truck bed hit the rail, hard. It jarred him badly enough up front, he hated to think about what it had felt like back there. "You okay?"

 

There wasn't an answer, but he could hear Tim's continually muttered count. Once they were off the bridge, he risked a glance back and saw some of the gear he carried had fallen across McGee, who didn't even bother to shove himself free until he stopped to breathe for Jackson. Cursing under his breath, Gantry tried to speed up as much as he dared. The road had a slight dip to it, not enough to ever be noticeable under normal circumstances, but today it was enough for the truck to slide again, spinning enough that they went through the intersection backwards. Luckily, no one else was attempting to cross the road.

 

In the back of the truck, Tim continued to work. He remembered everything the training class had taught him about sudden cardiac arrest and the survival rates, but he was clinging onto the slim thread of hope because there were no absolutes according to Ducky. At least he was no longer sweating, even though he wished he could lose the heavy coat.

 

They went around a slight curve in the road and the truck slid again. This time they ended up in someone's field, but Gantry eventually got them back on the road. He asked dispatch to let them know their current location. It wasn't much, but he had to do something.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Clear."

 

"Umm, clear, sir."

 

Gibbs shoved his SIG back in his holster as he glared. "Let's start searching these crates and don't call me sir, Dorneget."

 

"Yes, sir, I mean, Agent Gibbs, sir." Dorneget winced as he squeaked out an answer. Tony had a more pressing concern.

 

"Boss, there's a lot of boxes in here."

 

"Then get with it, DiNozzo. They're not going to unpack themselves."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"We're here." It wasn't a pretty parking job, but Gantry got the truck backed into the emergency entrance as an assortment of medical personnel rushed out to greet them. Hands reached in and quickly pulled Jackson out. He was laid on a gurney and rushed inside, a doctor finally taking over the CPR.

 

Gantry held back until they were clear, then gave Tim a hand out of the truck, grabbing him as his legs buckled. "Easy, kid, I've got you."

 

"Gibbs, I need to let Gibbs know." Tim pulled away enough to reach for his phone, only to discover it was still on the floor in Jackson's living room. "Damn it, my phone."

 

"Don't worry about it right now. I'll get the number." They made it into the building and Gantry steered him toward a row of chairs as he tried to get a nurse's attention. "Let's get this coat off of you, okay? You're looking a mite too warm for this time of the year."

 

Becoming confused, Tim struggled with Gantry for a moment before sagging in the chair and letting the Sheriff remove his coat as if he were a child. "Can they save him?"

 

Gantry froze, then laid his hand on Tim's drooping head. "You did everything you could, son."

 

"It wasn't enough, was it?"

 

Gantry didn't know how to answer him, but he knew Tim felt way too hot. A nurse was coming closer and he raised his voice enough for her to hear him. "Let's get you checked out, okay? Jackson would want that."

 

"No, not until we know about Jackson." McGee shook off the helping hand and turned to stare at the door they'd disappeared behind with Jack a few moments ago.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Vitals?" Dr. Owens looked to his lead nurse, who shook her head. "Damn it. How long ago did he go down?"

 

The nurse that had been on the phone with the dispatcher rolled the defibrillator up next to the bed. "It's been more than seventy five minutes, but he's had CPR the entire time."

 

Hoping for the best, but knowing just how slim the chances were, Owens had the CPR stopped and applied the defibrillator paddles. Jackson's body jumped, but there was no reaction from his heart. The two nurses that were giving him CPR resumed as the machine recharged and a quick IV line was started. Medication was forced in and a second round of shock was given.

 

"Come on, come on."

 

"No inversion, Doctor."

 

"Again."

 

"No response."

 

"Push another 50cc's, up the charge."

 

"It's in."

 

"Let's hit him again."

 

"Still nothing."

 

"Resume CPR."

 

"Again."

 

"Nothing."

 

"Again."

 

"No response."

 

"Another 50cc's"

 

"Maximum charge."

 

"Again."

 

"No response."

 

"Damn it."

 

"Doctor?"

 

He hated to let death win. "How long since the original cardiac arrest?"

 

"Two hours, nineteen minutes since the first call to 911."

 

"Damn it." Repeating himself, Owens reached over and silenced the machine. "Time of death?"

 

She looked up at the clock to get the official time. "1447."

 

"Did somebody come in with him?"

 

"There's two men in the waiting room."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim was still arguing with Gantry and the nurse when movement caught his eye. He looked up just as a man in blue scrubs stepped out. One look at the doctor's face and Tim knew. "You never got him back, did you?"

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"I... I have to make a phone call."

 

Gantry handed over his own phone, but Tim dialed a different number. Some things you didn't do over the phone.

 

 


	3. My Father is Dead

 

 

 

"Tony, take the evidence to Abby. Bishop, start doing a background check on the names we found." Gibbs barely slowed down on his way upstairs to check in with McGee. The doctor's appointment wasn't until tomorrow, but he wanted to make sure he was going to get them dug out in time to get there. Rubbing his stomach, he'd barely sat down when his phone rang.

 

"Yeah, Gibbs."

 

_Agent Gibbs, the Director would like to see you in his office right away._

 

"On my way." Still wound up from the search and his gut pinging, Gibbs bounced back to his feet and headed for the stairs. Pamela waved him through with a strange look on her face.

 

"You wanted to see me, Leon?"

 

"Have a seat, Gibbs." Vance was sitting at his desk, a grave expression on his face, and Ducky was standing next to him, equally sad.

 

Already suspecting, Gibbs sank into the chair. "My father?"

 

"I'm so sorry, Jethro."

 

"He was supposed to see the doctor..." Gibbs closed his eyes. "Tomorrow. Just one more day – one more damn day. Was... was McGee with him?"

 

"Yes." Ducky took over since he'd already talked to the doctor in Berwick. "It appears Jackson suffered a sudden cardiac arrest. Timothy performed CPR, did everything possible, but the doctors were unable to resuscitate him."

 

Gibbs didn't say anything for a moment, just rubbed at his mouth, before he stood up. "I need – need to go up there and – and take care of him."

 

Vance had never seen the man looking so lost. "Of course, Jethro. Your leave is already taken care of. You have more than enough saved up, take as much time as you need."

 

Falling silent again, Gibbs nodded and walked out the door. Worried, Ducky turned to Vance. "Since I have no current guests downstairs, I would like to go with Jethro. Make sure Jackson is properly taken care of and answer any questions Jethro might have."

 

Under the circumstances Vance had already figured that would be the best option. "Of course. Keep me posted as to the arrangements. I'll make sure the team gets there when it's time."

 

"Unless Jethro says something to them himself, which I doubt he will, it would be better if you break the news to Tony and Abby after Jethro and I have left the Yard. They will certainly mean well, but I suspect Jethro will need a bit of time before he can handle any sympathy, even from those he cares about deeply."

 

Vance nodded at the sage suggestion. "Understood."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs returned to his desk and dropped down in his chair, mechanically going through the motions to make sure that everything that would normally go to him as team leader would be forwarded to Tony while he was gone.

 

_My father is dead._

 

He was vaguely aware of Bishop sitting on the floor next to her desk with an assortment of papers strewn around her.

 

_My father is dead._

 

HR needed to be notified, that was agency protocol, but he'd never had to do it before. Forcing his hands to stay steady, Gibbs opened the necessary window.

 

_My father is dead._

 

HR already had his bereavement leave recorded. He stared at the words for a minute before he remembered that Vance had said it was taken care of. Closing that back out, he searched for his car keys. He'd need to top off the tank before he left and call to let his dad know... He took a shaky breath.

 

_My father is dead._

 

No calls. Suit, he'd need his suit. He'd need his suit for the funeral.

 

_My father is dead._

 

Gibbs jumped as a hand was laid on his shoulder. When he looked up, Ducky's compassionate face filled his view. "I'm sorry, Jethro. Jackson was a good man. Now, why don't I drive us? Director Vance has authorized the use of an agency sedan."

 

When he got a slight nod, Ducky continued, wanting to get Gibbs moving and out of the building before it finally hit him. "Why don't you fetch your go bag and I'll meet you in the parking lot in a few minutes."

 

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, Duck."

 

Ducky squeezed his shoulder once again before stepping away, not noticing Bishop on the floor behind her desk.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The problem with being the new kid on a team that had been together for years was the fact that it was easy to miss the subtle nuances as the rest of them worked together. She didn't have a clue what was going on, only that it started when McGee testimony suddenly wasn't needed. Thus, she stayed quiet and kept her head down when Gibbs returned from the Director's office. She was still quiet when Ducky arrived, obviously not used to looking down onto the floor for her.

 

Ellie felt bad for eavesdropping, but when she heard Ducky talking she knew making her presence known would be worse. Once Ducky and then Gibbs left the squad room, she grabbed her phone.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"This is everything? You guys spent hours at the scene and this is all you bring me back? I'm beginning to think you don't love me, Tony, and where is Gibbs? I haven't seen him all day." Abby took the small pile of evidence bags and started spreading them out.

 

Tony casually tried to stretch his arms. "Hey, don't blame me, we looked. Eight hundred and twelve crates and eight hundred and eleven of them were filled with gears and ball bearings."

 

Trying to look sympathetic, Abby failed when the side of her mouth twitched. "You had to pry all of them open?"

 

"Yep, and no McGeek to help with the grunt labor. Any idea when he's getting back?" Tony sat on the stool and snuck a sip of Abby's CafPow before shuddering at the taste. She glared at him and took the cup back, setting it out of his reach.

 

"He's not back? I heard his testimony was canceled."

 

Tony pulled out his phone. "Let's find out because we could sure use him back here." He dialed McGee's number, but it immediately went to voice mail. "That's weird, maybe he's on his flight back."

 

Before Tony could put his phone away, it rang, startling him. He expected it to be McGee, but the display showed Bishop. Figuring it was a heads up that Gibbs was looking for him, he took a deep breath before answering. "Hey, Bishop, what's up?"

 

_Who's Jackson?_

 

"What about Jackson?" Tony looked over at Abby, who was listening to his side of the conversation.

 

_Is he somebody important?_

 

Tony didn't like the way this was heading. "Yeah, what about him? Just tell me, Bishop." Her voice sounded very timid when she answered.

 

_I think he's dead, Tony._

 

"Dead? Jackson's dead?" Tony was only vaguely aware of Abby bursting into tears next to him. "Bishop, how do you know, what did you hear?" She was crying by the time she'd related the entire conversation she'd overheard.

 

_What do we do, Tony?_

 

"You keep working on what Gibbs told you. I'll take care of it."

 

_I'm sorry._

 

"Yeah, me too, kid." Tony disconnected the call and held an arm out. Abby immediately burrowed against him.

 

"What are we going to do, Tony?"

 

"We're going up there."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Need to stop at the house. Need my black suit."

 

"Of course, Jethro. Is there anything else that needs to be done before we get on our way?"

 

Gibbs leaned against the roof of the sedan. "No. We're used to hitting the road in a hurry. Never for..." He sighed and hung his head. "Not like this."

 

"This is the one trip we never think we will take, Jethro." Ducky waited for Gibbs to climb in the passenger side before he got behind the wheel and started the engine. "No matter how much we try to prepare ourselves for it."

 

Gibbs was silent until they left the Yard. "Appreciate this, Ducky."

 

"Jackson was your father, but he was also my friend. He would expect this of me and I am glad to do it, even if I regret the circumstances."

 

"Should have told the team, but can't quite say the words yet."

 

It was the closest Ducky had ever seen his old friend to breaking down and he reached over to touch his arm. "That's very understandable, Jethro. Leon has promised to break the news and to release the rest of the team to be in Stillwater in time for the funeral."

 

"Good. That's good." Gibbs' voice trailed off as he stared out the side window.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Tony?" Bishop scrambled to her feet as DiNozzo came into the squad room.

 

He shook his head as he grabbed his pack. "If Vance looks for me, tell him I went to talk to a witness, okay?"

 

"Tony..."

 

He pointed at her as he walked away. "Cover for me, Bishop." Not letting her say anything else, he waved as he left the room.

 

 


	4. Arrival

 

 

Gibbs wasn't particularly talkative under the best of circumstances, so Ducky wasn't offended by the silence as they drove up toward Pennsylvania. Two hours north of DC the snow on the road was getting heavy enough that Ducky was glad for the silence so that he could concentrate on driving.

 

Eventually Gibbs shifted and turned to Ducky. "Duck, let me drive, okay?"

 

"Jethro, I am perfectly capable of driving in poor weather. Did I ever tell you about the winter I spent in..." Ducky glanced over and saw the expression on Gibbs' face. He was a man that desperately needed something to do, something that would keep his attention. "Very well, Jethro. I'll pull off at the next exit and we can top off the tank while we're at it."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Bishop, where is Agent DiNozzo?"

 

She froze, then plastered on what she hoped was a calm expression. "I believe he said something about interviewing a witness, Sir."

 

"I see. And Miss Sciuto?"

 

"I don't know, Sir." At least that was an honest answer.

 

Vance didn't look at all convinced, but he didn't call her on it. "When you hear from him, tell him I need to see him in my office. Miss Sciuto, too, if you happen to see her."

 

"Of course, Director Vance." She didn't take a deep breath until he was gone.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tank filled, Ducky climbed in the passenger side, allowing Gibbs to get behind the wheel, but he didn't hand over the keys right away. "Remember, Jethro, Berwick, not Stillwater."

 

Much of the talk in Vance's office was a blur, but Gibbs remembered something about Berwick. "They took him to the hospital there?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Okay." Gibbs nodded stiffly as he took the keys. Ducky was a little worried at first, but Gibbs drove smoothly, especially considering the condition of the roads. Eventually he was able to pull in behind a snow plow which helped the drive considerably.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"We could have taken my car. We might have caught up with them by now."

 

Tony shook his head as he changed lanes. He'd spent the extra money to rent an all-wheel drive rather than a standard car. "Your hot rod really isn't built for driving in this amount of snow, Abs."

 

She knew he was right, but she still hated the delay. Before she could argue some more, Tony pointed to the laptop she'd brought with her. "I don't think Stillwater has a hospital so do whatever you have to do to figure out where they're going."

 

"Won't Gibbs go home to Stillwater?"

 

"Eventually, but he'll go to wherever Jackson's... wherever Jackson is, to say goodbye."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah." Tony risked taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at her. "If it were my dad, that's what I'd do."

 

"I guess you're right." Abby stared off into space for a moment before she thought of something. "We should try and call McGee again. He should know."

 

Tony wasn't sure why she was telling him this as she was the one in the passenger seat. "Driving here, Abs."

 

It took her a few more minutes, but eventually she pulled out her phone and tried to call McGee. Just like before, it went straight to voice mail. She left him a message to call her back before closing her phone. "I guess he's still in the air."

 

"Guess so."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

They'd put another fifty miles behind them before Gibbs spoke again, but Ducky could see the question forming in his eyes long before the words came. "Do you know any details about how he... what happened?"

 

"Not a great deal, I'm afraid." Ducky thought about how best to describe the conversation. "Timothy sounded quite stunned and shaken. He did not want you to hear this over the phone and felt you had the right to be told in private. He... he kept telling me that he tried, he really tried to save him, Jethro."

 

"I know he did, Duck. McGee wouldn't do anything less."

 

Ducky was worried about what the guilt would do to McGee. "He was quite distraught that he was unable to save him."

 

Gibbs got what he was telling him. "I'll make sure he's okay. It's the least..." Gibbs swallowed hard. "I owe him that much."

 

The rest of the drive was silent until they arrived at the hospital. Gibbs started to pull into the small parking lot attached to the emergency department, then jerked the wheel to continue on to the main lot. He gave Ducky a sad look as he explained. "Not really an emergency anymore, is it?"

 

"Oh, Jethro." Ducky really didn't know what else to say as they parked and made their way to the main entrance. It was late enough that the front desk was shut down and a sign directed them to the 24-hour desk in the emergency department. Gibbs gave a bitter laugh and let Ducky lead him to the second desk.

 

The nurse was appropriately sympathetic and let Gibbs know that his father's body was in a small room ready for a private goodbye whenever he was ready.

 

"Thank you, ma'am." Gibbs looked around, expecting to see McGee. "Do you know where Timothy McGee is, he... he brought my father in."

 

"Leroy?"

 

Gibbs turned just as Ed Gantry walked up to him, hand held out. "I'm so sorry about Jackson, he was good people." He pulled Gibbs closer as they shook hands and clapped him on the back in a show of support.

 

"It was his heart?"

 

"Yeah, I think so. Your boy was giving him CPR when I got there, didn't stop until we got to the hospital."

 

Ducky spoke up, becoming concerned. "Where is Agent McGee now?"

 

"Damn near killed himself trying to save Jackson. They've got him in the back, giving him IV's and monitoring him pretty close. Might have a cracked rib or two, haven't heard what the x-ray showed."

 

Gibbs had never dreamed that there had been any sort of risk for McGee. "I don't understand. What happened?"

 

Ducky steered them toward a group of chairs in a nearby corner and Ed waited until they were all sitting down before he started to explain.

 

"You sure you want to hear all of this?"

 

Gibbs just nodded, hands tightly gripping the arm rests on the chair.

 

"Okay, near as I could figure, your man was out shoveling the sidewalk and the driveway. He was wearing Jackson's heavy coat and most of the snow had been cleared. Your dad collapsed in the living room and Tim apparently got to him quick, probably within seconds. Dropped his phone on the floor so he could call 911 and start the CPR at the same time. Boy didn't even stop long enough to take off the coat."

 

Ducky took a deep breath, suspicious as to what had felled McGee, but he remained silent as the Sheriff continued to explain. "He was alone with Jackson, handled the compressions and the breathing all by himself."

 

"You mean until the ambulance arrived."

 

Gantry shook his head. "Sorry, Leroy. The ambulance crashed and didn't make it. By then, there was a big pile up on Interstate Eighty and every ambulance in three counties was there. It had already been about thirty minutes, you understand, but Tim wouldn't give up. He was still working on your dad when I got there, refused to give up." Ed closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered.

 

"We used a tarp to carry him out to my truck, got him in the back and Tim started right back with the CPR. Didn't miss a beat. Other than the thirty or forty seconds it took to get Jackson in the truck, he didn't stop until we were here at the hospital and the medics took over. Not when we slid off the road, not when we slammed into the bridge and not even when the cabinet of emergency gear in my truck tipped over and landed on him. This time of the year, it didn't even dawn on me when he stopped sweating.

 

"Hell, Leroy, I didn't even realize the kid was in trouble until after we'd been here for a while. I thought he was just a little overheated, you know."

 

Ducky was pretty sure he knew what happened. "His core body temperature continued to rise, I am assuming. He sounded very upset and traumatized when I spoke to him on the phone, but it was more than that, wasn't it?"

 

"Yeah, his phone got left back at the house and he had trouble remembering your number. Heck, with the phones nowadays and their programmed numbers, I think we all do, so I didn't think too much about it. When he ended the call, he just hit the ground."

 

"But he's going to be all right?"

 

"Guess we're going to find out." Gantry pointed out a doctor coming towards them. As soon as he was close enough to talk, Gantry made the introductions. "Jethro, this is Dr. Owens. He tried to save your dad, and now he's taking care of Tim."

 

"Mr. Gibbs?" Owens shook his hand. "I am so sorry for your loss, we did everything we could."

 

"Appreciate that, Doc. Sounds like you've had your hands full here today."

 

"It's been different, I must admit. Agent McGee will be glad to hear you've arrived. Maybe that will help him calm down. I'm afraid he's taking your father's death very personally."

 

Gibbs had been afraid of that ever since he'd heard the story. "I'd like to see him, he's going to be okay, right?"

 

"We've got his core temperature back down close to normal and he's been given fluids. X-rays showed no broken bones, but he's got some nasty bruises forming. I was going to admit him overnight for observation, but he became quite agitated at the suggestion. If there's someone that can stay with him for the next day or two, then I'd feel better about releasing him."

 

"He'll be with me."

 

Ducky had been planning on volunteering, but Gibbs had jumped in before Ducky could even open his mouth. Once he thought about it for a second, Ducky realized that it was a better option. Only Gibbs could get through McGee's guilt and Jethro needed to be doing something right now and taking care of the younger man was an excellent option.

 

Dr. Owens apparently thought so too. "Then I'll authorize his release as long as this last round of tests comes back clean. We just did a MRI to make sure there's no internal damage. You can sit with him while I review his results."

 

"Thank you. I'd also like to see my father."

 

"Of course. Janice can take you back whenever you're ready."

 

Gibbs nodded at the nurse and stepped forward just as two familiar voices could be heard behind them. He flinched at Abby's loud tone as she was obviously wound up. Ducky glared at them for a moment before turning back to Gibbs. "You go see Timothy, I'll deal with the children."

 

Gibbs nodded again, this time in gratitude, before following the nurse through the secure doors into the emergency room.

 

Ducky crossed the room to meet Tony and Abby, arms crossed over his chest and with a glare that would have impressed even Gibbs. "What, exactly, are the two of you doing here?"

 

Abby was crying again. "But Ducky, Gibbs needs us here. Why didn't he stay? He needs a hug."

 

"Abigail..."

 

"But..."

 

Determined, Ducky put his foot down. "I know Director Vance did not tell you about Jackson. Not in time for the two of you to be here already."

 

Tony was seeing the error in their plan. "The Boss doesn't want us here, does he?"

 

"Not yet, Tony." Ducky sighed, remembering how hard this would be for all of them. "Give the man time to process what has happened."

 

"What did happen, Ducky?"

 

Ducky directed them to the same row of chairs he and Gibbs had been sitting at earlier. He looked around, but Gantry had subtly slipped away. Grateful for the privacy, Ducky explained what he knew so far.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim was struggling to stand, IV still in his arm, when Gibbs walked through the door. Ignoring the nurse, he quickly stepped close, cupping Tim's face in his hands. "Easy, easy."

 

"I'm sorry, I tried. I really tried."

 

Mindful of the line to the IV, Gibbs pulled him closer until their foreheads were touching. "I know, Tim. I know. No one could have done more."

 

"But it wasn't enough." Tim's voice broke. "Not enough."

 

"Sometimes it has to be. At least he wasn't alone." This time it was Gibbs' voice that broke. "At least my father didn't die alone."

 

Gibbs helped Tim back up on the exam table just as Dr. Owens walked back in. "All right, Mr. McGee, I have you test results here and luckily you suffered no permanent damage. I'm going to examine you one last time and then I'll send you home with your friend here."

 

Giving Tim what he hoped was an encouraging smile, Gibbs stepped back to give the doctor room. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Tim."

 

Janice was waiting right outside the exam room and led Gibbs down the hall. "Take as much time as you need, sir."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"DiNozzo still interviewing his witness?"

 

Ellie jumped at the sound of the Director's voice. "I... I guess so, Director Vance. I haven't heard anything from him."

 

Suspicious, Vance crooked his finger, indicating he wanted her standing in front of him and she slowly got up of the floor. "Did you hear any sort of discussion between Agent Gibbs and Dr. Mallard before they left"

 

Staring at her feet, she nodded, but remained silent.

 

"And what did you do about it?"

 

"I called Tony and asked him who Jackson was."

 

"I see. And that is when Agent DiNozzo left to interview his mystery witness?"

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

Vance was disappointed, but didn't have the heart to scold her. Instead, he settled for a glare, knowing he'd made his point as she winced. "Go home, Bishop. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

 

"Yes, Sir." She waited until he was part way up the stairs before she asked. "Sir, who was Jackson?"

 

Surprised that she hadn't figured it out, Vance turned around and went back downstairs. "You didn't research it?"

 

She shook her head. "I'm still working on the assignment Agent Gibbs gave me before you called him upstairs."

 

That deflated some of Vance's ire and he spoke softly. "Jackson Gibbs was Jethro's father. He was," Vance couldn't help but smile as he remembered. "Jackson was one of a kind, much like his son."

 

"I'm very sorry, Director Vance. I wish I'd have gotten to meet him."

 

"Good night, Bishop." Vance returned to his office to make a necessary phone call.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The room was dim, lit by only one light near the head of the narrow bed. Gibbs walked slowly across the tile floor to stand next to the man he'd loved and hated for his entire life. Memories of his childhood danced across his mind, hours spent throwing a ball with his dad, sitting on his lap and steering their old truck, sneaking down the stairs to watch his parents dancing together in the living room on New Year's Eve, all moments he hadn't remembered for years.

 

"Ah hell, Dad, I'm sorry I wasted so many years. I should have been there with you more. I should have been with you today." Gibbs choked back a sob as he lowered his head.

 

 


	5. Goodbye

 

Ducky was still staring at Tony and Abby. "Director Vance would have been telling the two of you right about now. Jethro is a private man, he would not want his grief to be a public spectacle."

 

Abby was still refusing to understand. "But we're not public, we're family. I mean, McGee's here, so why can't we?" To make her point, Abby leaned back in the chair and crossed her arms defiantly.

 

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that was forming. "This is what Gibbs wants, Abby."

 

"I don't believe it."

 

Before Ducky or Tony could reason with her any further, Ducky's phone rang. He sighed as he read the display. "Good evening, Director Vance. Oh, yes, they're here all right."

 

Without another word, Ducky handed the phone to Tony, who had a slightly panicked look on his face. "Sir?"

 

_If you expect me to stand your team down when Gibbs **is** ready for your support, you'll have your ass back here by morning. Is that understood?_

 

"Yes, Sir." He closed the phone and handed it back to Ducky. "Come on, Abby."

 

"No."

 

"NOW, Abby."

 

Tony had never yelled at her before and she stared at him for a few seconds before reacting. "Fine." As she stood, she shoved one of her gloves between the cushions.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs wiped at his eyes and took a calming breath before brushing his hand across the sheet covering his father's body. Next he bent down and pressed his lips against his father's forehead.

 

"Bye, Dad. Say hi to Mom for me, okay?"

 

Goodbyes said, Gibbs carefully lifted the folded edge of the sheet and straightened it to cover Jackson's head. Once that was done, he smoothed every wrinkle out of the cotton fabric and said a silent prayer. Only then did he walk out of the room. The nurse that had brought him back was still standing there.

 

"Thank you, Janice. I appreciate everything that was done for him."

 

She gave him a sympathetic smile. The haircut, the stoic expression, the extreme politeness in the face of grief, she knew she was talking to a military man. "I wish we could have done more."

 

"There is one thing." He almost hesitated, but knew that in the long run he and McGee would both need the answers. "The gentleman that came with me is a medical examiner. I'd like him to be the one to examine my father's remains and to handle any other arrangements."

 

It was an unusual request, but not impossible. Janice gave him her professional smile again. "I'm sure it won't be a problem. I'll get the necessary paperwork together for both you and he to sign before you leave. You're waiting for Mr. McGee to be released, is that correct?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then I'll get right on it. Do you need help finding your way back to his room?"

 

Gibbs shook his head as he pointed down the right hallway before he started walking. She followed behind, not close, but close enough that she could help him if he got lost.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs arrived back in Tim's room just as Dr. Owens was finishing his exam. "Well?"

 

"I'm going to release him, but," Owens gave a look to Tim before turning to fully address Gibbs, suspecting that would be the best way to make sure his orders were followed. "I want him to take it easy for the next few days. His body is going to have trouble regulating his temperature while he's recovering, so make sure he doesn't do anything that will get him overheated or chilled. No caffeine, either."

 

Even under the circumstances, Gibbs almost laughed at the expression on McGee's face at that restriction. "I'll make sure of it. Appreciate everything you and your team did, both for my father and for especially for Tim."

 

"Well, it's not every day we get to treat a case of heat stroke in the middle of a blizzard."

 

Tim was dressed and carefully slid off the stretcher, standing up as he retrieved the borrowed coat. Gibbs was right there and wrapped a supportive arm around his waist. He was worried about what he'd find in the waiting room, but when he and McGee walked out, Ducky was sitting there alone.

 

"Ah, Timothy, how are you feeling, lad?"

 

Staring at the floor, Tim just gave a slight shrug. Worried, but not wanting to push, Gibbs eased him down into one of the chairs, dropping the coat in another. "I've got to sign some paperwork, then we can leave, okay?"

 

This time he got a nod. Worried, he looked over at Ducky. When they made eye contact Gibbs jerked his head to the side, wanting to talk to him in private before the nurse came back.

 

They moved a few feet off to the side and Gibbs leaned close, keeping his voice low. "Duck, I'd like you to take care of my dad, examine him and make sure everything's taken care of."

 

"Of course, I was planning on it, Jethro."

 

The door to the emergency department opened and Janice stepped out with a large stack of papers and waved them over. Hospital policy stated that anything related to the death of a patient be handled in private so she led them back and into a small room behind the main nurses station.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Abby and Tony had just stepped out of the lobby when she made a show of looking for her other glove. "I have to go back, Tony, I've only got one of my gloves." Without waiting for an answer, she practically ran back inside.

 

Tony cursed under his breath, suspicious that losing her glove was no accident. Knowing that she was up to something, he ran after her. By the time he'd caught up with her, she was standing in front of McGee.

 

"Why are you acting like it was worse for you? We loved him, too."

 

Tim looked up at her as she stood over him. "Abby..."

 

She was on a roll and never slowed down. "Why didn't you save him, McGee? Tony saved Gibbs' life. He pulled him out of the water and didn't stop until Gibbs was breathing again, isn't that right, Tony?"

 

Tony was slow to react, not having realized that Abby even knew he was in back of her. "Yeah, that's right, but..."

 

"But nothing."

 

Before Abby could go any further, Sheriff Gantry showed up with a tray of drinks. "There a problem here, folks?"

 

"No, no problem, we were just leaving." Tony grabbed Abby's arm and tugged her away from McGee, stopping just long enough to snatch the 'missing' glove from under the edge of the cushion where Abby had been sitting earlier.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs let Ducky and Janice sort out the paperwork, just signing where he was told. Eventually, everything was signed and Janice started the process of pulling apart the copies for the family and each department and agency involved. Gibbs used the break to ask Ducky about what had happened earlier. "Tony and Abby understand?"

 

Ducky debated how much to tell him. "Mostly, I believe. Tony more than Abby, of course. I do believe the call from Director Vance probably encouraged that, however."

 

Gibbs gave him a questioning look and Ducky sighed. "Leon and I felt it would be easier on you if he waited and told them after we'd left DC, give you some time to focus on your own needs and not worry about anyone else. Unfortunately, and I don't know how, they found out almost immediately."

 

"Bishop."

 

"What?"

 

"Bishop was working on the floor behind her desk."

 

"Oh, heavens." Ducky closed his eyes for a moment as he realized that he, himself, had let the cat out of the bag. "Then this was my fault. I'm afraid I am not used to checking the floor for your team."

 

Gibbs gave a slight tilt to his head. "She does her best work sitting on the floor, especially if she's got junk food." He thought about it for a moment. "She probably heard, didn't recognize the name and asked Tony about it."

 

"That would be my guess as well, Jethro. The upshot is that Tony and Abby apparently walked out of the building without talking to anyone about it. They certainly didn't go to Vance and ask permission."

 

"And in the middle of a case. Great, just great."

 

"Yes, well, Director Vance was quite adamant about it – they have to be back at work first thing in the morning if they want expect to be able to come to Jackson's funeral. If they have any sense, they didn't slow down until they were back to their car."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Watching the two leave the waiting room, Ed Gantry sat down next to McGee. The tray of drinks was set on the small table and he picked up a bottle of apple juice. He gave the lid a twist to break the seal before handing it to Tim. "Here, you could probably use something to bring your blood sugar back up a little."

 

"Thanks." Tim really didn't want anything, but he took a few sips anyway as Gantry watched him.

 

"What are you doing out here by yourself?"

 

Tim picked at the label. "Gibbs and Ducky went to sign the paperwork so Ducky can do the autopsy instead of the local medical examiner."

 

Gantry was a little surprised. "Why? There's no foul play involved and nothing suspicious. It was sad, but pretty cut and dried."

 

"Yeah, well," Tim thought about the accusation. He knew Abby was hurting, but it had still stung. "Some people think I didn't do enough."

 

Since he'd heard the tail end of the conversation, Gantry knew exactly who he was talking about. He tapped Tim's arm. "Hey, I was there. Nobody could have done more to save him. It just wasn't meant to be. Don't let anybody convince you otherwise."

 

Point hopefully made, Gantry looked up as Gibbs and Ducky returned. He offered a cup to each of them. "Here, thought you could use a cup of coffee about now, Leroy."

 

"Thanks, Ed." Gibbs gratefully took the cup and even Ducky was ready for something to drink as Gibbs made the introductions.

 

"Jackson talked about you, Dr. Mallard. Just wish we were finally meeting under better circumstances."

 

Pleasantly surprised to find tea in his cup, Ducky accepted the handshake. "As do I, and it's Ducky, please."

 

"The road to Stillwater won't be cleared until morning. You guys staying here in Berwick tonight or do you want to ride back with me?"

 

Gibbs glanced over at Ducky, knowing that he would be doing the post-mortem exam first thing in the morning. Even if he did the driving back to Stillwater, that meant Ducky would be driving back either late that night or before sunrise. "Ducky has to stay close to here, but Tim and I could use a ride to Stillwater."

 

Ducky nodded in agreement. "Then I will see the two of you later tomorrow. With any luck, the plows will have been through by then."

 

"Probably a good idea. You don't want to be on that road more than you have to unless you've got four wheel drive."

 

"All right." Ducky laid a hand on Tim's shoulder. "You do nothing but rest until I'm there, tomorrow. Is that understood?"

 

"Yeah, Ducky. Thanks."

 

"Good." Ducky was a little more demonstrative with Gibbs, pulling him close enough to whisper in his ear as he patted his back. "I will take good care of Jackson. You have my word, Jethro."

 

Unable to speak through the lump in his throat, Gibbs just gave a nod. He covered his emotions by helping Tim into the coat before they stepped out into the cold weather. Ducky went outside with them and Gibbs retrieved his bag from the trunk of the sedan. Gantry pointed out a decent motel nearby and Ducky left. Gibbs watched until he turned the corner and then followed Gantry and Tim back to the truck.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ducky didn't wait until he was at the motel. As soon as he was out of sight of the hospital he pulled over and called Jimmy.

 

"Mr. Palmer, I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

 

_Dr. Mallard, I was worried. Everybody seems to be vanishing here today._

 

"Yes, well, I'm afraid there's a very difficult reason for that. Jackson Gibbs died earlier today. I've come to Pennsylvania with Jethro to take care of his father."

 

_Oh, wow, I'm sorry. He was a nice old man. I mean, well..._

 

Ducky had to smile at his assistant's words. Jimmy meant well, but he was still horribly awkward at times. "It's quite all right, Mr. Palmer. Jackson had a good, long life. Jethro was worried about his father and had Agent McGee stop by on his way back from Rochester."

 

_Was Jackson dead when Tim found him?_

 

"No, but he suffered a fatal cardiac arrest only a few hours later. Timothy performed CPR by himself for over an hour and a quarter until they could get to help, but it was unsuccessful." Ducky could hear the sorrow and worry in Palmer's voice.

 

_Oh, man, that's terrible. Tim's blaming himself, isn't he?_

 

For his awkwardness, Jimmy could be astute at times. "Yes, I'm afraid he is and that is why I have a job for you."

 

_Anything, Dr. Mallard. What can I do to help?_

 

"DiNozzo and Abigail showed up here tonight. I've sent them home, but I want you to make sure that they are not blaming Timothy. The poor fellow worked so hard trying to save Jackson that he actually suffered a heat stroke, believe it or not. He has nothing to feel guilty about."

 

Jimmy gave a low whistle.

 

_Wow, that's... wow. Yeah, I'll make sure they understand._

 

"Thank you, Mr. Palmer. That would be a relief."

 

 


	6. Heading Home

 

"Damn." Walking up to the truck, Gibbs saw the damage on the side. It wasn't enough to render the vehicle inoperable, but he could just imagine the jolt when it happened especially back in the bed of the truck where McGee was not only closer to the point of impact, but without a seat belt or other safety devices.

 

Gantry hadn't actually looked too closely at the crushed metal before. "Like I said, it was a wild ride. Here, you can throw your bag back here." He opened the back of the camper shell and continued on to the driver's side door.

 

Gibbs dropped his bag inside and slowly looked around the bed of the truck, where much of the fight for his father's life had happened. An old canvas tarp was rumpled up and shoved to the side, showing the thick plates of metal that were stacked on the bed. A large storage cabinet was laying on its side, the ripped out bolts showed just how hard of hit they'd taken. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could imagine his father laying there, Tim frantically bent over him, forcing the blood to circulate through his body. Blocking the image from his mind, Gibbs closed the door and turned the handle to latch it before walking around to the passenger door of the cab. Tim was already sitting in the middle and Gibbs climbed in without a word.

 

Ed wasn't much of a talker either and Tim was too exhausted to say much, so the trip back to Stillwater was relatively quiet. Tim fell asleep part way there and Gibbs tugged him back enough that he could lean against Gibbs' shoulder.

 

The snow got deeper the closer they got to Stillwater and eventually the truck slowed down to a crawl.

 

"Was it this bad coming in?"

 

Gantry gave a snort. "Oh, yeah. At least the wind has died down now. The snow was still coming down then and it was mostly sideways. Remember the Winter of our junior year, the storm that closed school for almost a week?"

 

Gibbs' eyes widened at the reminder. He still gauged storms in comparison to that one. "That bad?"

 

"Pretty much. Didn't last as long, but last night and this morning was as bad as that one had been. Honestly, I didn't think we were going to make it to the hospital. Kept calling in our location to dispatch so they'd know where to send a rescue team."

 

So many things had gone wrong and all of them out of anyone's control. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if the outcome had been different if his father had collapsed in the middle of a pleasant Spring day.

 

They passed a field where a vehicle had obviously gone off the road, a deep gouge left in the snow. Gibbs was pretty sure that was one of the problem's Gantry had mentioned, but he decided not to ask. Gantry noticed the expression on his face.

 

"You okay, Leroy?"

 

Gibbs gave a slight shake of his head. "It must have been one hell of a trip."

 

Driving back, he honestly wasn't sure how he'd managed it. "Yeah, it was."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

On the road back to DC, Tony looked over at his sulking passenger. "It really wasn't McGee's fault. He tried his best, Abby."

 

She sniffed and didn't answer him, but she didn't have to. Her words from earlier still rang through his head. _Tony saved Gibbs' life. He pulled him out of the water and didn't stop until Gibbs was breathing again, isn't that right, Tony?_ Could he have saved Jackson? Now that the question was in his head, he couldn't seem to let go of it.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Stillwater looked the same as always, but it already felt empty to Gibbs. He knew, without a doubt, that when he finished here he would never return. Between Jackson's old truck and Tim's rental car, the driveway was full so Gantry just pulled over on the street. Other than the mailbox, there was no way to judge where the road ended and the front yard started, but Gibbs figured he was pretty close, not that he cared about the condition of the grass under all that snow.

 

Not bothering to shut off the engine, Ed leaned against the steering wheel. "Don't know how much food your dad kept in the house, but I imagine the casserole brigade has already started."

 

Jethro remembered the endless stream of food that arrived in the days and weeks after his mother's death. "Yeah, I imagine so." He woke Tim and once the younger man was standing upright next to the truck Gibbs went around to the back to grab his bag.

 

Once they were away from the truck, Gantry put it into gear, making a mental note to talk to Gibbs away from McGee at some point. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."

 

"Thanks, Ed."

 

The house was unlocked. Much like his son, Jackson didn't even have a key to his front door. Tim was looking flushed and Gibbs tugged the coat off of him. "You hungry?"

 

"Nah, not really."

 

Gibbs took a closer look at him and realized how rough he looked. "When was the last time you ate?"

 

"Breakfast." Gibbs looked like he was going to insist he eat and Tim shook his head. "I don't think I could keep anything down right now."

 

Gibbs couldn't really argue with that. "You staying in the upstairs guest room?" When Tim nodded, Gibbs turned him toward the stairs. "Go, get in bed and I'll bring you something to drink and some crackers or something so you can take some Tylenol, okay?"

 

"Yeah, okay." He ached all over and his shoulder and back were pretty painful. He slowly trudged up the stairs, aware of Gibbs watching him closely until he was safely in the upstairs hall.

 

In fact, Gibbs didn't move until he heard the bedroom door open and then close. Once he was sure Tim was safely in the bedroom, he moved to the kitchen. As he suspected, there were two casseroles already in the refrigerator, both with cooking instructions taped to the foil that covered them. Despite his sadness and exhaustion, Gibbs had to chuckle at the sight. One look at the food and he knew the cabbage roll casserole was from Mrs. Hannigan while the chicken and cheese ravioli casserole was from Mrs. Gunther. Nice woman, but she couldn't cook worth a damn. While he dug out a bottle of orange juice and poured a glass for McGee, he wondered how he could get rid of that one dish without offending the Mayor's wife.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"You hungry?"

 

Abby just shrugged, so Tony took that as a yes and signaled to take the next off-ramp. They'd been on the road for a couple of hours and were finally past the worst of the snow. They found a decent restaurant and Tony ordered the prime rib while Abby just wanted a beer. "Food, Abby."

 

"I'm not hungry."

 

"Well, I'm eating and you're only getting one beer."

 

"Fine." She turned back to the waitress with a saccharine smile and ordered a bowl of clam chowder. Once the waitress was gone, she glared at Tony. "Happy?"

 

"Ecstatic." He waited for the explosion he knew was coming.

 

"I can't believe Ducky just kicked us out of there. If Gibbs really wanted to be alone, he'd have sent McGee back with us."

 

Tony bit back a groan. He'd seen her get like this, but usually it was Gibbs or Ducky that reigned her in or she just eventually wound down on her own, like with McGee and the dog. This time, Tony was the one that was going to have to deal with her hysterics. "You saw the look on Gibbs' face, Abs. Us being there – it was too much, too soon, and McGee's got a rental car sitting in Jack's driveway."

 

"Gibbs should have sent you to check on Jackson."

 

"Why? Tim was driving right past there, of course he'd be the one to stop. Besides, if Gibbs could have sent me, then he could have gone himself." Tony shook his head as he tried to reason with her. "There's not always a bad guy, Abby. Sometimes things just happen."

 

She started to sniffle again. "I can't believe he's gone, Tony."

 

"Yeah, me either."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs went back upstairs to find McGee still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You going to sleep in that sweatshirt tonight?"

 

Tim's face flushed dark red. "I can't raise my arms."

 

"Ah, hell, McGee." Gibbs stepped closer, depositing the pills and juice on the nightstand. "Let me give you a hand, okay?"

 

Not looking up, Tim gave a nod. "I'm sorry." He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, knowing how Gibbs felt about apologies.

 

If there ever was a time to retire that rule, this would be it. Gibbs squatted down in front of Tim so that he could look him in the eye. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Tim. You're hurt because you tried so hard to save my dad, so let me help, okay?"

 

This time there was the slightest shadow of a smile and Gibbs carefully threaded Tim's arms out of the sweatshirt he was wearing. Tim shivered, but he felt rather warm to Gibbs who remembered the doctor's warning about McGee's body temperature while he was recovering.

 

Once the shirt was tossed aside, Gibbs untied Tim's shoes and pulled them off before helping Tim to stand back up. He rested his hands on Tim's waist to help balance him as Tim undid his jeans and stepped out of them. After Tim was laying down, Gibbs didn't hand over the juice and pills. "I want to check your temperature first, okay?"

 

The upstairs bathroom was seldom used, so Gibbs went back downstairs. His breath caught as he stepped into his father's bedroom, spotting his well worn robe laying across the foot of the bed. The Father's Day before they'd died, Shannon and Kelly had bought two. One for him and one for Jackson. He hadn't realized that after all these years Jackson still had the last gift from his beloved granddaughter. He sat heavily on the bed. "Oh, Dad."

 

Gibbs only allowed himself a few moments to grieve before he forced the emotions away. Continuing on into the bathroom he opened the medicine cabinet to find the glass thermometer in its expected place on the shelf. On the shelf below it was a glass bottle that brought a smile to his face. The label on the liniment bottle hadn't changed in forever it seemed. Taking the cap off and breathing deeply, Gibbs remembered watching his father use it on his own hands at the end of a long day of working and he remembered his mother laughing about the smell tickling her nose. But mostly he remembered his dad using it on his shoulder after a long session of football practice as they'd talk. The quiet man and the sullen teenager, they'd talk more in those few minutes than any other time of the day.

 

Carrying both items, he returned upstairs. Tim was laying on his side, his eyes widening as he saw what was in Gibbs' hand. "A glass thermometer? I haven't seen one of those in years."

 

Gibbs just gave him the look and slid it into Tim's mouth. Tim held still, tasting the remains of the alcohol used to sterilize the glass tube as his old childhood fear of biting the glass rose up in his mind.

 

Pleasantly surprised at how docile McGee was, Gibbs checked his watch. When the required time had passed he pulled the thermometer out and raised an eyebrow before pulling the blankets off of McGee. "Running a little warm there, McGee. Let's see if we can get you cooled back down."

 

Tim didn't look happy to be uncovered again, but he didn't fight as the blankets disappeared. However, he was a little surprised to find himself being lifted up to lay against Gibbs' chest. "What?"

 

Gibbs splashed a few drops of the liniment into his hands and started working on Tim's neck and shoulders to begin with. The deep groan made him smile. Tim grew heavier and heavier against him and by the time he was done rubbing both of his arms, Gibbs knew the other man was sound asleep.

 

It had been many years since he'd held someone while they slept. Gibbs continued to work the muscles in Tim's back and arms as he relished the solid weight against his chest and the delicate brush of breath against his throat. Worried about balancing Tim as he worked down onto his lower back, Gibbs shifted them so that he could lay back against the pillows with Tim draped across him.

 

Tim snuffled against him once before settling back down and Gibbs carried on with his massage, working the tight muscles until he felt them start to relax. Even then, Gibbs continued with long stokes the full length of Tim's back. It was comforting in a way and eventually the strokes slowed and he drifted off to sleep.

 

 


	7. Waking Up

 

 

Gibbs woke slowly, confused as to why he felt so comfortable. It took a moment to remember where he was, why Tim was snuggled up against him and the circumstances that brought him there.

 

_My father is dead._

 

Before yesterday, he might have just shoved McGee off of him, but somehow in the last twenty-four hours their relationship had changed on a fundamental level. Instead, he carefully eased him further over on the bed and slid out from under him. Gibbs waited a minute to make sure Tim was still sleeping before climbing out of the bed. Despite his care, Tim seemed to be waking and Gibbs stroked his hand over Tim's head, calming him and lulling him back to sleep. Once that appeared to be successful, quietly crept out of the room.

 

Out in the hall he pulled out his phone and made a quick call. At the slightly sleepy voice he winced, realizing how early it was.

 

_Gibbs?_

 

"Hey, Leon. Didn't realize what time it was."

 

_It's okay, just waiting for the coffee to finish. I've got to get the kids up for breakfast soon. How are you?_

 

He could hear the scraping of wood on tile and knew that Vance was moving away from the table to pour his coffee. "Been better, but I'm okay. Want to talk to you about Tony and Abby."

 

_Uh-huh._

 

"They meant well. Don't ride Tony too hard, okay?"

 

_Wasn't planning on it. Just enough to scare him a little._

 

Gibbs snorted at that. It had been his overriding philosophy with Tony for years. "Appreciate it."

 

_If they shows up here when they're supposed to, I'll scold them and then probably send them home for some sleep. Looks like your case is overlapping with an FBI case and under the circumstances I'm leaning towards letting them have it._

 

Gibbs hated to give up a case, but he had obligations he couldn't walk away from, McGee was recovering and the rest of the team was also distracted and hurting. "Might be for the best. Gonna take me more than a few days to take care of things here and McGee probably won't be medically cleared for at least a week."

 

_What happened to McGee? Don't tell me that he wrecked that rental car?_

 

Gibbs bit back an angry retort, but he was pretty sure Vance had heard his sharp intake of air. "No, he suffered a heat stroke trying to save my father's life. He collapsed in the hospital right after talking to Ducky."

 

_Wait, a heat stroke? In the middle of a snow storm?_

 

"Yeah, well, apparently that's what happens to you after you spend who knows how long all bundled up, shoveling the snow, trying to keep up with a blizzard, and then immediately run inside to start CPR and do that for over an hour because the damned ambulance crashed and never made it here and..."

 

_Easy, Gibbs, I didn't know._

 

"None of us did, but he was in rough shape for a while and the only reason he's out of the hospital right now is because I promised he'd be with me." Gibbs took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. "Just figure he'll be out as long as I will, maybe longer."

 

_All right, Gibbs. More than ever I think handing this case over to the FBI is the best option. I'll have DiNozzo and Bishop work with them for the next few days to transfer everything over smoothly before the funeral or whenever you're ready for the invasion._

 

Leaning against the wall, Gibbs rubbed the side of his face. "Thanks, Leon. I know that I'm asking for a lot right now."

 

_Hey, when Jackie... when Jackie died, you were there for me. You and McGee both. Did you know he handled the insurance company and the cleaning and repairs to the house? Then he handled the school and arranging to get the kid's schoolwork for them until they were ready to go back._

 

"No, I didn't, but I'm not surprised."

 

_Now it's my turn. One of the advantages of a smaller agency – we can take care of our own. Do what you need to do and I'll handle it on this end. Just keep me in the loop._

 

"I'll let you know." Gibbs closed his phone as he thought back to the days after Jackie Vance's murder. They'd all run themselves ragged, but he remembered McGee spending all of his free time on the phone. He was always one to work quietly in the background, getting things done, often without notice. Gibbs made a conscious promise to himself to notice and appreciate from now on.

 

Looking down at the time on his phone he realized that even if it were a normal day at work, he wouldn't be up quite yet. Decision made, he slipped back into the bedroom and finally toed off his shoes before laying back down. Without ever waking back up, Tim scooted towards the returning warmth and with a slight smile, Gibbs settled them back into their original position.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

After the half of a bowl of chowder and a full beer, Abby had slept most of the way back to DC. By the time they'd arrived and he'd gotten her home, it was really too late to bother sleeping, himself. Instead, Tony went home for a quick shower and then to the diner for breakfast.

 

Elaine looked up as he walked in the door. "Hey, handsome, you meeting the gang here?"

 

"Nah, just me this morning." He plastered on a smile and sat at the corner booth.

 

She handed him a menu and a cup of coffee. "You know Jethro almost always stops here for his morning coffee."

 

"Not this morning, he's up in Pennsylvania. His... his dad died yesterday."

 

"Jackson?" Elaine set the carafe down hard as she stared at Tony. "Oh, my word, I didn't even know he was ill."

 

Tony wanted to kick himself when he saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you knew him."

 

"All those months he stayed with Jethro after that horrible woman shot up his store, they'd come in together at least once a day. Such a sweet man." She sighed and wiped at her eyes. "I'm guessing that Jethro isn't quite ready for sympathy yet?"

 

"You don't sound surprised."

 

Elaine glanced around, but it was still pretty deserted so she sat down across from Tony and patted his arm. "Honey, in our generation, men were raised up to not show their pain, especially not the pain of losing someone and certainly not to anyone who looks up to him."

 

"But an equal is okay?"

 

Her fingers waved around as she tried to remember names. "Tea and bow tie... Ducky, right? He'd be a good one to get through to Jethro right now."

 

"He's already there. The rest of us will go up in a few days."

 

"That sounds like a good plan." Elaine stood and refilled Tony's coffee even though he'd only had a few sips. "You give him my love when you see him. In fact, I'll do you one better. I'll send a care package up with you when you all go. Just let me know when."

 

"Thanks, Elaine."

 

"No problem, sweetie. I'll bring you your usual in a few minutes." Elaine smiled and waved at another customer as he came in, then went back to work.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The second time Gibbs woke up, he remembered right away where he was and why. Still, he was surprised at how peaceful he felt, even as he realized that he was stroking his fingers up and down Tim's back.

 

He felt Tim's face rub against his chest then suddenly still, telling him the moment when the younger man woke up. Continuing to stroke his back, Gibbs kept his voice low and calm, not wanting McGee to feel guilty or uncomfortable being found laying on him. "Good morning, how are you feeling?"

 

"I'm okay."

 

Gibbs knew, without a doubt, that if his arms weren't blocking the escape route, Tim would have been off the bed by now. "I doubt that, but are you feeling better?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Tim froze as Gibbs shifted them around. When he was done, they were laying side by side, facing each other, and Gibbs had one arm draped over Tim's side while huge green eyes stared up at him. "Nobody is expecting you to bounce back overnight after what you did yesterday."

 

Gibbs saw a flash of pain before the expressive eyes closed. "In the end, I didn't really do anything, Boss."

 

"Hey." His voice was sharp, to get McGee's attention. Once Tim was looking at him, his voice gentled as if he were talking to a victim, because, in a way, he was. "You drove all night in a storm that most people wouldn't have ever attempted. You were here, so my father wasn't alone for his last day on Earth. You fought to keep him alive and you fought harder and longer than anyone could have asked. My father didn't die alone and I don't have to ever wonder because I know you did every possible thing to keep him alive. You might see that as nothing, but to me it was everything."

 

Gibbs usually would have stopped there, but the intimacy of being only inches apart on the bed let the rest slip free. "That's something that is going to haunt me for the rest of my life about Shannon and Kelly. They were alone. The only person with them died at the scene, too. I'll never know if my wife was in pain, I'll never know if my little girl was calling for me. That's..."

 

Understanding now some of what was going on, Tim reached out and laid his hand on Gibbs' arm. "He wasn't feeling well, I could tell when I got here, but he still had that sense of humor of his."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah." Tim was glad he could share a little happiness with Gibbs. He thought for a few seconds to remember the exact words and tried to imitate Jack's deep voice. "When I told him I could just crash on the sofa, he said - _there's a perfectly good guest room upstairs. Or, you could get that DiNozzo character all in a tizzy by sleeping in Leroy's old room."_

 

Gibbs barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Oh, God, that sounds like Jack, all right." He turned serious as he raised up on one arm and rested his cheek on his fist. "Thank you. That's the kind of stuff that means a lot. Now, how about some breakfast? You need to get some food in your system."

 

Tim automatically climbed out of bed as soon as Gibbs was standing, but he swayed and would have fallen if Gibbs hadn't caught him. "Whoa, head rush."

 

"Lay back down, I'll bring the food to you." Gibbs didn't let go until he had Tim back in the bed and the sheet pulled back up. The worry showed on his face so Tim just nodded and stayed put when Gibbs brushed a hand over his head. "I'll be back in a few minutes with some more juice."

 

The jug he'd found in the fridge yesterday was still half full, so Gibbs poured two glasses and brought one of them back upstairs. Tim was sitting up when he walked back into the room. "Thought you were going to stay put?"

 

"Can't really drink laying flat, besides, I need to..."

 

"See a man about a horse?" He grinned a little at the blush.

 

"Yeah."

 

With no further teasing, Gibbs held onto his elbow as he stood and then walked with Tim to the bathroom in the hall. Gibbs let go of him there, letting him have the privacy he needed, but stayed close and was ready the moment the door opened back up. Once he had Tim back in bed, he returned downstairs to figure out what he could fix for their breakfast. The plows could be heard coming down the road and Gibbs relaxed a bit, knowing that would help Ducky's commute later.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Snow plows in Stillwater meant that the state plow would detour and go down the main road once on its way back to the highway. This time, as a favor to the local sheriff, it would loop around to take care of one of the secondary roads. It was something that Gantry did on occasion when there was a death or a new baby in town. The neighbors all knew it so the cars had already been cleared off the road by the time Gantry pulled onto Jackson's street and parked in Carla's driveway as to not block the plow.

 

He knocked on the door and was greeted by Gibbs. Barefoot, but dressed in the clothes from the day before. "Hey, Ed."

 

"Morning, Leroy. Thought the kid could use this." Gantry held up a bag filled with bottles of Gatorade in assorted flavors he'd pulled out of his own kitchen.

 

"Great idea, thanks. Come on in. I was just getting some coffee started." Gibbs took the offered bag and led him back to the kitchen where the coffee making had obviously been interrupted.

 

Gantry looked around as they walked to the back of the house, but there was no sign of McGee. 'Tim upstairs?"

 

"Yeah. I want to get some food in him before he starts moving around too much." Practiced eyes had picked up on the worry and the careful looking around. "Is there a problem?"

 

"Hope not, but thought it best you knew." Gantry wasn't one for sugarcoating things either, one of their only shared traits during high school. "Tim had a couple of visitors when he was alone in the waiting room yesterday. Guy in a fancy suit, expensive haircut, looked familiar. Woman with black pigtails."

 

"They came back." Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he looked at Gantry. "You hear any of the conversation?"

 

Gantry leaned back against the counter by the stove. "Not much. The woman was harping on him, guy dragged her out when I arrived and asked if there was a problem. Thing is, when I talked to Tim afterward, he said some people didn't think he'd done enough." Message given, Ed pushed away from the old Formica surface. "Just thought you should know."

 

"Thanks, Ed. I'll take care of it."

 

"Figured you would, Leroy." Through the kitchen window, they could see the back of the store. "You know what you're going to do about the store yet?"

 

"Haven't a clue."

 

"Think Jeremy'll be by later. He's Dan Johnson's youngest boy, works for Jackson after school and on weekends. Might be able to help you for a few days."

 

"That would help." He walked Gantry to the front door, where they could see a young man wearing a Letterman's jacket making his way down the street. "That him?"

 

"Yep, and up before noon on a snow day. I'd tell you to latch onto him, but he's already got a college scholarship lined up and it's not in grocery store management." That earned a slight snort from Gibbs and the kid passed Ed on the front porch.

 

"You Jeremy?"

 

"Yes, sir." Tall and lanky, several sports were listed on his jacket. "Since the school's closed because of the snow, I wondered if you wanted me to open the store for the day. Folks are probably ready for milk and bread and stuff."

 

Gibbs had found only two eggs in the carton that morning. "I know we are. You need me to unlock it for you?"

 

"I have a key for the door, but I can't get into the safe for the cash."

 

"All right, I'll get you set up. Just let me grab my shoes."

 

He bounded up the stairs and found McGee just finishing his juice. The conversation in the kitchen wouldn't have traveled this far, but the one in the living room probably did. "You heard?"

 

"Yeah, probably a good idea. I kinda got the impression that some of the older folks around here never leave town."

 

It was one of the primary reasons Jackson had for not retiring. "Pretty much. I'll grab some groceries for us while I'm there. Any requests?"

 

Tim shook his head and after Gibbs got his shoes back on he pointed a finger at the younger man. "Stay put, I'll be back in a few minutes, and no talking to anyone in DC. Just rest, Ducky's orders."

 

 


	8. Opening the Store

 

 

Gibbs' earliest memories were of living above the store with his parents while LJ lived in the storeroom at the back. Small town gossip being what it was, as soon as the store was profitable enough, Jackson had build a separate house directly behind the store, but facing the street behind it. He'd laughed that the commute to work now required shoes, but Anne had been happy and their son now had plenty of room to roam and play. LJ moved into the tiny apartment upstairs where he'd stayed until the secrets about Anne's death tore the two friends apart.

 

Now he walked the path with a new appreciation of his parents and the life they chose. They reached the back door and Jeremy unlocked it and then stepped aside as if understanding the significance of the morning. "I'm really sorry about Mr. Gibbs, Agent Gibbs. Your dad was a real nice guy. Mr. Winslow might sponsor the teams, but it was always Mr. Gibbs that made sure the guys had snacks on the bus rides home, win or lose."

 

That made Gibbs smile as he remembered his own days on the team. Second string, no matter how hard he practiced or how good he was, because Winslow Mining was in charge of things, especially back then. No matter what, though, every player came to find him after the game to see just what treats Jackson had tucked away in his son's gym bag.

 

Gibbs walked slowly through the store as he remembered. He'd learned his multiplication tables using canned beans and fractions using wedges of cheese as his father would drill him between customers before his mother would slip him a piece of chocolate and send him out to play.

 

The safe was in a little storeroom behind the counter, the curtain Anne had hand sewn, worn and faded, but still covering the opening. The combination was still based on their anniversary and Gibbs spun the dial, his fingers remembering even more than his mind. Two heavy envelopes and a shoe box were in the safe, the accounting method Jackson had used forever. The shoe box was filled with cash ready for the bank while envelope number one was filled with exactly one hundred dollars in assorted bills to start the register every morning. It was envelope number two that brought back the most memories. Nobody went hungry in his town, Jackson had always made sure of that.

 

Gibbs handed the first envelope to Jeremy so he could get the register ready and took the second envelope to the table and sat down. Tally sheets, some of them almost as old as he was, slid out of the envelope as he shook it. Miners out of work, injured or sick, could buy what they needed for themselves or their family and put it on 'the tab'. It always amazed the younger Gibbs how trusting his father was. It amazed him even more when those tabs were almost always paid down.

 

"I'm ready, Mr. Gibbs."

 

He'd almost forgotten the kid was there. Gibbs gathered the papers back up and tucked them back in the envelope before setting it next to the register, where it always stood. Opening the front door, Gibbs found himself face to face with several of the town folk, laying tokens of remembrance in front of the store.

 

Hugs and pats on the back couldn't be avoided and he remembered to nod at the appropriate times as people gave their condolences. Eventually he was able to escape, grabbing a few items for breakfast before he slipped out the back door and returning to the house.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs wasn't knows for his skills in the kitchen, not because he didn't have any but because it wasn't something he shared. Fixing breakfast was something he'd learned from his mother. Later on, it was a tradition he'd had with Kelly. Today it felt good to be puttering around the old kitchen, a room filled with good memories of both his parents. Over the last forty years, the dishes and the glassware had changed, but the three skillets Anne used in the kitchen were still in the cabinet next to the stove. Hash browns in one, bacon in the second, Gibbs found himself humming her favorite song as he cracked eggs into the third. Dropping two slices of bread into the toaster, he could almost hear his father's voice coming from the living room and his mother's daily answer.

 

_Anne, let the toaster actually toast the bread. Don't just warm it up._

 

_In other words, turn it black and scrape it down?_

 

He had to close his eyes for a moment, the memory was so intense. The smell of the bacon brought him back to the here and now and he finished cooking before piling the food high on two plates.

 

It took a bit of planning and a great deal of balance, but Gibbs managed to take both plates, more juice and his cup of coffee up the stairs in one trip. Tim sniffed appreciatively, leaning close to the cup of coffee before turning a hopeful face toward Gibbs.

 

Gibbs set everything down and took his coffee out of McGee's reach. "You might have been too out of it to remember, but I wasn't."

 

Busted, Tim started eating. The eggs were over medium, just the way he liked them, and the hash browns were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. He'd had no idea that Gibbs was so handy in the kitchen. "You could give Elaine a run for her money."

 

Gibbs just gave a shrug. "I can do breakfast and I can do steaks. Nothing in between."

 

"Does that mean peanut butter sandwiches for lunch?"

 

"Yep."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Vance leaned back in his seat and studied Tony. He was wearing fresh clothes, but there was no mistaking the tiredness in his eyes. "Good to see you back, DiNozzo."

 

Tony was staring at a spot right above Vance's left shoulder. "It was a stupid thing to do, I know."

 

"Ya think?" Vance deliberately used Gibbs' words to make his point. "Not only did you leave in the middle of the work day without authorization, you left a probationary agent alone, running a case. She covered for you, by the way, but you had no right to leave her in the lurch like that."

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

"What would she have done if she'd found a lead that needed to be followed? Her and Dorneget out in the field alone? Adams, if he arrived in time? She's never even met him, has she?"

 

Dropping his head, Tony winced at the reminder. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

 

"You're damn right it won't. The next time you pull a boneheaded stunt like this, I'll bench you. For now, go home." Vance paused as Tony looked up with a panicked expression. "Be back by 1400 to meet up with the team from the FBI. We're turning the case over to them."

 

"What? No, we can still get it done, and without the FBI."

 

He'd promised Gibbs, so he didn't ask exactly how Tony planned on doing that with most of the team gone. "Turns out they've been working the same case for weeks, but from a different angle. Bishop's research caught their attention because she was getting close to an operative they've got undercover."

 

"Why not a joint operation?"

 

"It will be for a day or two, before you go back up to Stillwater. This time, when he's ready for you." Vance watched the guilt flash over Tony's face. "Let Gibbs tell you what he needs."

 

Tony still remembered how Gibbs flinched at their noisy intrusion. "He's not really good at that."

 

"I thought you were the resident expert on Gibbs-speak? Go home, Tony. Get some sleep and then let's get the case transferred over, so you can be ready when Gibbs needs you."

 

"McGee and Ducky staying up there?"

 

"For now. Ducky is handling the arrangements and McGee is on medical leave for the foreseeable future."

 

"Ducky said something about that, but I don't get it. He was just giving CPR. It's not like he had to pull him out of the bottom of the ocean or..." Tony stopped short, realizing that he was repeating almost word for word one of Abby's rants from the drive home.

 

Vance's eyebrow climbed at the outburst, but he didn't call him on it. "I am certainly not at liberty to discuss Agent McGee's medical status, but I guarantee you it's been verified. 1400, DiNozzo, don't be late."

 

Obviously dismissed, Tony turned on his heel and left the room, mentally beating himself up for his last outburst. Abby's words were affecting him more than he wanted to admit.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim McGee was bored. Bored, bored, bored. The TV was downstairs, his phone was downstairs (and still dead), every book in the house was downstairs. Sighing, he punched his pillow into a slightly better shape and laid back down. He could hear Gibbs in the next room, moving things around.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Jethro Gibbs ran his fingers over the framed picture on the wall, It was a picture of him and his father taken by his mother when he was about ten. They'd driven into Philadelphia for the 4th of July weekend, the three of them. They'd watched a double-header before grilling hot dogs in the park and laying on blankets to watch the fireworks. He'd started his collection of baseball cards that weekend. Curious, he sat down on the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand. Reaching into the back, he came up with a stack of cards held together with a rubber band.

 

Grinning, he pulled the picture down off the wall and took it along with the cards. "Hey, McGee."

 

Tim looked up at him as he walked into the room. "Boss? What's that?" He took the picture when Gibbs held it out, scooting over to let the other man sit on the bed.

 

"Proof that I actually was a kid."

 

That reminded him of a conversation with Ziva the first time he'd met Jack. "So, you didn't fall to Earth in a capsule after your home world exploded?"

 

"Wasn't even molded out of clay, and not a cabbage patch in sight."

 

Tim bit his lip at the discovery that Gibbs had heard the entire conversation and looked closer at the picture. "Philly?"

 

"Yep, July 4th. It was a double-header with the Cubs, won both games."

 

"No surprise there." They exchanged grins at that tidbit. Both men had teased Vance over the years about baseball and his hometown. Looking closer at the picture, Tim had to squint. "Is that who I think it is? Behind your dad?"

 

Gibbs took a closer look, paying more attention to the background than to the family memories this time. "Holy crap, I think you're right. At least it sure looks like him. I can't believe I was that close to John Wayne and never knew it." He shook his head before a look of sadness crossed his face. "Dad never mentioned it and I'll never get the chance to ask him."

 

Tim rested his hand on Gibbs' arm, gently giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, he doesn't look like he realizes who's behind him either."

 

That made Gibbs chuckle a little. "He watched every movie John Wayne ever made. It would have pissed the hell out of him if he knew he'd been that close and missed the man."

 

Gibbs leaned back against the headboard and looked at the photo again, brushing his finger against the glass. "So many memories, he never hid them away. Good or bad, everything was always right there, in the open. I should have paid more attention."

 

Tim had an idea, but he first needed to know if Jackson had ever followed through with the suggestion that Tim had made his first time in Stillwater. Before that, he needed to be allowed out of bed. They went through the stack of baseball cards together first, Gibbs surprised at the number of players McGee recognized.

 

"Didn't realize you were such a fan."

 

"It was the only sport my dad wasn't shoving down my throat." He gave a slight shrug. "So, it was the only sport that was fun."

 

"You haven't talked about him lately, how's he doing?"

 

"About the same, I guess. We had a big blow up on my last birthday so he's not talking to me right now."

 

"Tim..." Gibbs stopped, knowing that the two situations were entirely different. "What was the fight about this time?"

 

"I am now, officially, too old to join the Navy for active duty."

 

That was the first he'd heard about that possibility. "He was still trying to get you to enlist?"

 

"Yep. Once he understood what I do at the Agency, he's convinced I should be in the NCDOC."

 

It took a second, but then Gibbs recognized the acronym. "Cyber Defense? He wanted you to leave the Agency to join the Cyber Defense Operations Command?"

 

"Yeah and when I turned it down flat it was like my high school years all over again except he couldn't threaten to kick me out to live on the street."

 

"Ah, hell, Tim. I didn't know about that." Gibbs wrapped an arm around him to squeeze his neck. "You didn't deserve that. I just hope he comes to his senses before..."

 

"Before the cancer takes him? Yeah, me too." Saddened, Tim didn't fight the arm that was wrapped around him and pulling him closer to Gibbs.

 

Gibbs took a minute to enjoy the feel of Tim's body against his. They'd always had a different relationship, but the last few days had strengthened and deepened it considerably. "What would make you feel better for now?"

 

"Well, if I can't have coffee, can I have a shower?"

 

"That we can do. Let's see if you're steady enough to stand on your own." Gibbs stood, but didn't let go of Tim until he was sure the other man wasn't going to take a header. Once he was convinced Tim was all right standing on his own, Gibbs dug through his suitcase and found him some clean clothes. Most of the packed clothing was dressy, for court, but he found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt along with a fresh pair of boxers.

 

Towels were in the bathroom so Gibbs didn't have to look. After turning the water on, he steadied Tim as he dropped his boxers and stepped inside the shower.

 

Gibbs hoped that Tim wouldn't question him as he stayed close and wrapped him in a towel the moment the shower ended. There was no logical reason for him to be doing this, but it felt so good to be taking care of the other man. After Tim was back in the guest room and dressed, Gibbs could see the boredom, not fully masked by the exhaustion. "You want to move down to the sofa? Maybe watch some TV?"

 

"Yeah, that sounds good." Tim didn't complain at all about being tucked tightly against Gibbs as they carefully made their way downstairs and settled on the big old couch.

 

 

 


	9. Ducky's Arrival

 

 

Gibbs straightened up as he saw the familiar vehicle pull up alongside the edge of the road. "Ducky's here."

 

On the other end of the sofa, Tim tried not to let his fears show. "Okay, why don't I let the two of you talk in private. I'll, umm, I'll get some water started in the kitchen for tea."

 

"Tim."

 

Waving him off, McGee carefully stood. He waited for the slight head rush to dissipate before he moved. "Whatever Ducky found in the autopsy, you have the right to hear that in private. All I have to do is to put the kettle on the stove and turn a dial, then I'll sit down, I promise."

 

Before Gibbs could think of an argument, Tim was headed into the kitchen and Ducky was stepping onto the front porch. Cursing under his breath, Gibbs answered the door, letting his old friend in.

 

Ducky stomped his feet to get rid of the snow before he stepped inside. "Ah, Jethro, it's good to see you. How are you holding up? And Timothy? Is he improving?"

 

"I'm hanging in there, Duck, and McGee is doing better, I think. He, uh, he stepped into the kitchen to give us some privacy."

 

Ducky had heard some movement coming from there. He didn't want McGee expending too much energy until he'd examined him, so he got straight to the point. "Dr. Owens and the local coroner both sat in with me as I did the exam and they both concurred with my findings. We're afraid nothing could have saved Jackson, I'm afraid. Even if he'd already been in the hospital's cardiac unit, hooked up to every monitor possible, they would not have been able to get him back, not for more than a few minutes at the most. The damage was just too severe. I'm sorry, Jethro."

 

Gibbs heard a muffled sob from the kitchen and was instantly on his feet. Ducky followed him and they found Tim standing at the stove, head bowed. Gibbs didn't hesitate, he stepped up behind Tim and wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him close so that he could whisper in his ear. "You did everything humanly possible. I never doubted it for a moment."

 

"I was so scared that I screwed up."

 

"Because of what Abby said to you?" Ducky's eyes went wide and Tim stilled so Gibbs explained how he knew. "Ed stopped by this morning. He was worried that you'd blame yourself, thought I should know."

 

Tim didn't say anything right away so Gibbs turned him around to face him, lifting Tim's chin to make eye contact. "Nobody could have done more. There's not a doubt in my mind about that and I'm going to keep telling you that until you believe it, too."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"Nothing to be sorry for, McGee." Gibbs kept him tucked up tight against Gibbs' side as they walked to the kitchen table and Gibbs eased him down into a chair, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Ducky's going to check you out, okay?"

 

If Ducky was surprised by the touching, he didn't say anything. He was, however, a little unhappy with the results of his exam. "Timothy, your blood pressure is a little higher than I'd like to see it and your body temperature is still a bit elevated. Are you drinking plenty of fluids?"

 

There was only one of the bottles of Gatorade left and Tim picked it up from the table as he tried to muffle his cough. "Had two of these today already."

 

Ducky didn't seem as pleased as Tim had hoped. "That's a start, but I want you to keep it up. Plenty of water, too. Now, when did that cough start? You're sounding a little raspy."

 

Tim tried to shrug it off. "My throat's still dry."

 

"Then drink." Gibbs opened the seal on the drink bottle and handed it back to McGee before turning his attention back to Ducky. "He need to go back to the hospital, Duck?"

 

"No, I don't believe so, but we do need to keep an eye on him as Dr. Owens stated. Since he's downstairs, would I be correct in assuming Timothy was resting on the sofa?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Ducky gave McGee a smile and patted his arm. "Then that's where you should be."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony arrived at work for the second time that day and stowed his backpack under his desk. Bishop looked up with a tentative smile. "You get some sleep?"

 

"Yeah, enough. Show me what we've got so far before the FBI shows up, okay?"

 

She brought the files over and sat on the corner of his desk. "I'm so, so, sorry, Tony. I didn't realize..."

 

"No way you could have known, Bishop."

 

"I know, but..."

 

Tony shrugged as he confessed. "Hey, I accidentally did the same thing today, so I get it. Really."

 

That made her feel a little bit better. "You did?"

 

"Yeah. Totally forgot that Elaine served him at least one meal a day while he was living with Gibbs."

 

"Elaine?"

 

Tony snapped his fingers as he leaned back in the chair. "You haven't been introduced to the diner yet, have you?"

 

That perked her up. "Diner?"

 

"Dinner tonight, Bishop. Introduce you to the diner and stories about Jackson."

 

Vance had been walking through the bullpen just in time to hear that and nodded in approval. "What time?"

 

Quickly thinking, Tony decided it would be a good opportunity for a mini-wake, mentally adding Abby and Palmer to the dinner plans, plus some of the agents that worked security while Jackson was under protection. "1900? Assuming we get finished with the FBI in time. Is Fornell coming? Has anyone told him about Jackson yet?"

 

"Yes and no." Vance made a mental note to make sure Fornell was told, preferably before he asked where Gibbs was hiding. "He might have a story or two, himself."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

When Tim fell asleep Gibbs and Ducky moved back into the kitchen. Ducky gave his old friend a careful look. "You and Timothy seem to be getting rather close."

 

"You say it like it's a bad thing. Is it?"

 

"No. No, of course not." Ducky struggled for a moment to explain. He'd hoped that taking care of McGee would help Gibbs cope with the loss of his father, but he hadn't expected them to get this close, especially this quickly. "I am just surprised, that's all. Timothy has always had a bit of a hero worship complex when it comes to you, and..."

 

"And for the first time I've taken the time to really get to know him. Or, at least admit to myself how much I want to know him – the man, not the agent that sits at that desk every day. He, he reminds me of Shannon, Duck."

 

"He's not a red-head, Jethro."

 

"Shannon was a lot more than a red-head and Tim is a lot more than the computer geek most people see."

 

"Of course."

 

"Is he going to be all right? He seems so exhausted."

 

"There isn't an instant recovery from something like this. We'll watch for any complications, but mostly he just needs time to rest."

 

"What kind of complications?"

 

"Now, let's not go borrowing trouble, Jethro."

 

"Ducky, what problems could happen?"

 

Sometimes Ducky really hated that stubborn streak. "Possible kidney damage, but since he suffered an intense but brief heat stroke, I would consider that one rather unlikely. Just keep pushing fluids to keep the toxins diluted and allow them to flush out of his body naturally."

 

"What else?"

 

"Lung issues, but those will take a while to show up."

 

"Great. Anything else?"

 

"Neurological damage, but we've seen no suggestion of that so far."

 

"Could it show up later?"

 

Ducky thought for a moment. "It's rare if the patient didn't slip into a coma or have a seizure during the original episode. However, to be safe, we'll do some follow-up labs in a day or two for both neurological and kidney damage. Possible lung damage is something we can't accurately test for, we'd just have to watch for symptoms."

 

"This is why Dr. Owens was going to keep him in the hospital?"

 

"Yes, but we can easily monitor him here. Like I said, Jethro, let's not borrow trouble. Timothy's recovery is going well. If that changes, we will deal with it.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Hey, Abby." Palmer brought a CafPow and set it on her desk before offering her a hug. "How are you doing?"

 

She shoved away the offered comfort and stood to begin pacing her office. "McGee should have tried harder."

 

"Abby..." Palmer shook his head, trying to figure out how to get through to her.

 

"Tony would have been able to save him. I know it."

 

"No, you don't. You weren't there."

 

"Ducky survived his heart attack."

 

He'd gotten a call from Ducky as the other man left Berwick for Stillwater. "Yeah, you're right. However, Jackson didn't have a heart attack, he suffered a full cardiac arrest. Not the same thing at all and McGee did everything humanly possible to save him. It just wasn't meant to be."

 

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that." Abby turned her back to him and covered her ears. "Go away, Palmer."

 

"Fine." He turned on his heel and left to find Tony. Either he'd help get through to Abby or Palmer would have a bigger problem on his hands.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

When they heard McGee waking up, Gibbs and Ducky moved back into the living room and Ducky handed Tim a glass of water. "Here, lad, drink up."

 

Tim dutifully took the glass and started drinking as Gibbs looked around the living room and past the dining room, into the kitchen before sitting next to McGee. "Ducky, you've been through this before. How do you sort through all of this stuff?"

 

Ducky pursed his lips as he also looked around. The home was neat and tidy, but there were a lot of things that showed Jackson's long life in the home. "I'm afraid our circumstances are very different, Jethro. Photos, of course, legal documents, certainly. The rest is up to the individual. I would suggest that you not give into the temptation to get rid of everything. At least not right away."

 

Tim chewed on his lip for a moment, remembering the family memories Gibbs had already shared with him. "Gibbs, what brings back the most happy memories?" Warming up to the idea, Tim reached out and laid his hand on Gibbs' arm. "Close your eyes and think back. What are some of the best memories of being home with your parents?"

 

Ducky's eyes widened as Gibbs seemed to melt against Tim with a slight smile on his face. So distracted by that, he almost missed it when Gibbs started talking. "Sunday dinners. Sitting at the table in the dining room instead of in the kitchen. Mom would do a big roast or a turkey, Dad would stand at the head of the table and carve it."

 

Gibbs opened his eyes and looked through the archway into the dining room. "The kitchen table's been replaced a few times, but the dining room furniture was my grandparents' gift to them when they got married."

 

"Does the table at your place have history?" Tim was pretty sure of the answer, but he wanted to be sure.

 

As he suspected, Gibbs snorted and shook his head. "Twenty bucks at Goodwill after Diane took everything. The recliner." Gibbs looked over at the chair Ducky was sitting in. "Can't remember a time when he didn't have a recliner. Remember him sitting up with me all night in it when I had the chicken pox. Remember him sitting in it when I shipped out the first time and when I came home on my first leave."

 

Appreciating the quiet support and the guidance, Gibbs took Tim's hand and squeezed it. "Everything else was just functional, but those pieces..."

 

"Then that's what we'll take home. Those and the pictures and whatever else is important."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Yeah, Palmer, what is it?" Tony had to be upstairs in a few minutes to meet with the FBI, and the demand from the Autopsy Gremlin had been a surprise.

 

"Did you know that Abby blames McGee for Jackson's death. She's convinced that you would have been able to save him."

 

"Well..." Tony ran his hand over his head as Palmer stared at him.

 

"Don't tell me that you believe that, too." Palmer crossed his arms as he leaned back against one of the autopsy tables.

 

"No, I'm sure he did everything he could."

 

"But you could have done more?"

 

"I don't know." Feeling cornered, Tony started pacing. "I don't want to believe it, but now that's it's in my head, I can't let it go."

 

Palmer watched, trying to decide if Tony was truly questioning McGee's attempts or if he was just hurting and striking out. "What would you have done differently?"

 

"Don't you get it? I don't know. I just don't know. I'll never know and that's what makes it... It's just hard, you know." Stopping, Tony's shoulders sagged and he leaned forward, his hands resting on the same table that Palmer was resting his hip on. "Don't think McGee's ever had to do CPR, not on a real person. It's different, maybe he..."

 

"NO! I've certified him the last two years. He knew what he was doing."

 

"I guess we'll never really know, will we?" Tony pushed away from the table and smoothed his suit. "I've got to be upstairs and meet with the FBI, Palmer. Is there anything else?

 

Palmer waited until Tony was almost at the door. "He suffered a heat stroke, he worked so hard trying to save Jackson, you know."

 

Tony didn't answer, just waved as he walked through the door. Once in the elevator, he thumped his head against the metal wall, trying to shake the traitorous thoughts away. He knew he needed a head slap, but this would have to do.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Pam smiled at the three FBI agents in the outer office. "Agent Fornell, Director Vance would like to speak to you in private for a moment first."

 

Fornell looked surprised, but it was one of the other agents that responded first. "I thought this was going to be a full disclosure meeting?"

 

Keeping her cool, Pam smiled at Fornell. "It's a personal matter, Agent Fornell."

 

"All right." Curious, Fornell entered the private office. "Leon, what's going on?"

 

Vance was sitting at his desk and waved his hand at the chair across from him, waiting until Fornell was sitting down. "Part of the reason we're so willing to turn this case over without making it a joint operation is because we're down a few agents. I'm afraid Jackson Gibbs died quite suddenly early yesterday morning."

 

"Ah, hell. How's Jethro taking it?"

 

"About how you'd expect."

 

"So, withdrawn and uncommunicative?"

 

Vance had to smile. "Yeah, something like that. McGee was driving past Stillwater and Gibbs asked him to stop and check on him, so he was with Jackson when he collapsed. McGee is still up there and of course Gibbs is there now, as is Dr. Mallard. Considering how close the team is, I'll be releasing the rest of them to go up for the funeral. DiNozzo and Bishop will be around for another day or two to work with your team to make sure you've got everything we've put together so far, but..."

 

"No, I understand. Damn, Jackson was a hell of a guy."

 

"Yeah, he was. Barring a crisis, I'll be going up to Stillwater, too. I won't stay past the funeral, but I want to pay my respects. Actually, quite a few members of the Agency are planning on being there."

 

"Of course. Carter is in charge of the investigation. I'm just here, well, I was supposed to sooth things over if necessary, but unless things really heat up, I'll be going up there as well. I owe Jethro that."

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

"Shall I fix dinner, Jethro? Timothy needs to eat something and even you can't live on coffee alone." Ducky leaned against the doorway and watched the two of them. Tim had dozed off again, this time with his head resting on Gibbs' thigh, and Gibbs was brushing his fingers across Tim's head as he stared off into space. Ducky's voice startled him.

 

"What?"

 

"Dinner, Jethro. Any requests?"

 

There's a couple of casseroles in the fridge, Ducky. Just not the one with the ravioli in it."

 

"Saving that one for something special?"

 

Gibbs finally turned and looked at him. "No, we're avoiding that one at all cost, Ducky. Believe me, it's for the best."

 

Curious, Ducky went into the kitchen and pulled both pans out of the refrigerator. The cabbage rolls looked rather tasty and he started pre-heating the oven to the temperature listed on the note. Once that was done, he turned his attention to the other casserole, studying it for a moment before returning to the living room.

 

"I must ask, what is that dish? It almost looks like canned Chef Boyardee ravioli layered with chicken pieces."

 

"Yep. That's exactly what it is. Boiled chicken at that."

 

"Oh, my." Ducky had an expression on his face that Gibbs had never seen before.

 

"I mean, if you want it, Duck, help yourself."

 

Ducky's lip curled, which Gibbs took as a no, but he had one more question for Gibbs. "I'm almost afraid to ask, Jethro, but what, exactly, is the sauce made with?"

 

"Got weird little round things in it?"

 

"Yes, I believe so."

 

"Then that would be Spaghetti-o's and Velveeta cheese. She's been fixing that for years. Apparently it was her husband's favorite dish."

 

"Either the man had no taste buds or was an absolute saint." Ducky gave a shudder and turned to return to the kitchen. "When is the garbage pick-up?"

 

"Day after tomorrow. Keep it in the refrigerator until then. If it warms up at all, we'll smell it." Gibbs checked the time and realized that it was close to the end of the business day. Carefully he slid out from under Tim, watching for a moment to make sure he didn't wake up. When that was successful he went into the kitchen, heading for the back door. "Gonna close up the store, send Jeremy home."

 

When he arrived at the store, Jeremy had the front door locked and was counting out the money. "How'd it go?"

 

"Pretty busy, Agent Gibbs. We're getting low on eggs and bread. Totally out of milk, but tomorrow is the usual dairy delivery day."

 

Gibbs tried to remember the business details from when he was a teen. "Does he have a set order? Do you know if he paid cash on delivery or has an account with them?"

 

Jeremy shrugged. "I'm not sure. I've never actually worked on a delivery day. Usually I'm just nights and weekends. Umm, school's supposed to be open tomorrow, but I can ask my mom about missing a day."

 

"No, you go to school. We'll manage tomorrow." While Jeremy was finishing up Gibbs grabbed a few treats before finding a few boxes in the back. He set one on the table and packed up some of the pictures from the wall. He took the ones that showed his father's travels, along with the old pictures of the grand opening of the store, Jackson and LJ shaking hands as Anne turned over the open sign for the first time. The pictures of the town over the years he left for the next owner, whomever they might be.

 

After one last look around, he took down the curtain from the storeroom doorway. It was really too faded and tattered to do anything with, but it was the only thing left that his mother had made. If nothing else, it could be padding for the glass in the picture frames. The last personal items in the store were Jackson's laptop and his white canvas apron. Gibbs carefully and precisely folded the apron and tucked it between two of the frames in the box before setting the box on top of the laptop.

 

Picking everything up, Gibbs followed Jeremy out the back door, waiting for the younger man to lock it. "Let me know how many hours you've worked since your last payday and I'll take care of it, alright?"

 

Jeremy seemed relieved and Gibbs suspected he never would have asked to be paid on his own. "Thanks, Agent Gibbs. The Winter Formal is coming up and..." He blushed as he shrugged. "Well, you know."

 

"Yeah, I do." He waited a beat. "Is she cute?"

 

"Prettiest girl in the school."

 

"You treat her right, then."

 

"Planning on it, Sir."

 

This time Gibbs didn't correct the sir.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Despite his earlier grumpiness, Carter seemed pleased with the information NCIS had to add to the case. "This gives us a whole new line of questions for the suspects we picked up the other day and will probably help our guys undercover."

 

Tony had been reviewing what the FBI brought to the table. "You've got Lee in custody now, right?"

 

"Lee and Miller, both. Why?"

 

"Okay, we don't have anything on Miller, but we've got Lee's fingerprints from our original crime scene."

 

"Yeah?" Carter thought he knew where DiNozzo was heading but he wanted to be sure, remembering stories about the crazy agents at NCIS that he'd heard, especially from Sacks.

 

Tony was warming up to his idea, his hands swinging around as he talked. "Okay, so they know that you don't have anything on them and they're smart enough to wait it out, right? So, what if Lee was – transferred – to the custody of NCIS?" Finger quotations made his point and he continued to explain. "Lee realizes that we have something on him, Miller will realize it too, if he's smart at all."

 

Carter was beginning to suspect that crazy actually meant crazy like a fox. "Lee might get tripped up and Miller might break to save himself if he's convinced Lee is going down." He nodded, thinking about how to work it. "Okay, we do the standard morning interrogation with each of them, then arrange for them to go back to their cells. Conveniently, tomorrow, that happens to be at the same time so Miller gets to see two NCIS agents show up with paperwork to take Lee."

 

"We tell him in front of Miller that we've got him dead to rights. Fingerprints and fibers to tie him to the deaths."

 

"You've got fibers?" Carter started flipping through the dozens of pages of evidence, looking for what he missed. Tony waved that off.

 

"We've got tons of fibers, just nothing to match it to, yet. Soon as we do..."

 

"Yeah, okay, that will work." Carter glanced at Fornell, then back at Tony. "All right, be at the holding facility at noon."

 

"Noon it is."

 

Standing up, Carter pointed at Bishop. "That was some pretty good research you did. If you ever want to come play with the big boys, come see us."

 

She blinked as she leaned back from his finger. "If I wanted to keep playing with the big boys, I'd have stayed at the NSA."

 

Fornell snickered at that. Gibbs had an uncanny ability to develop loyalty from his people in a very short time. He almost missed it when Tony started talking to him. "We're having a mini-wake for Jackson tonight at the diner. Bishop here never got a chance to meet him and she's never been at the diner before."

 

"Sounds good, I'll meet you there."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim perked up when a cup was put in front of him. "What's this?"

 

Gibbs looked rather pleased with himself. "Decaf coffee."

 

"Thanks, Gibbs." McGee took a tentative sip, then started drinking. It might not have the caffeine kick, but it was hot and strong.

 

Ducky hadn't been paying too close of attention, but he was sure Gibbs had only made one pot of coffee. "Jethro, are you actually drinking decaffeinated coffee also?"

 

"Not the end of the world, Duck. Tim can't have the caffeine right now, so I'll manage."

 

"I see." Somehow in the last day and a half, 'Boss' and 'McGee' had become 'Gibbs' and 'Tim'. Ducky was a little concerned by the change, but didn't say anything. Instead, he stood when the oven timer beeped.

 

Dinner was a quiet affair for the three men. Gibbs nudged the coffee mug closer to Tim when he started coughing again, then handed over a package of hard candies when the hot liquid didn't help. "Here, suck on one of these."

 

"Thanks."

 

Ducky was watching the exchange. "Is your throat sore, lad?"

 

"Nah, just a little tickle." Tim finished unwrapping the candy and popped it into his mouth. "This should take care of it.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Wait, wait a minute. What was wrong with his stroganoff?" Ellie was laughing as Tony tried to explain the kitchen restrictions Gibbs had put on his father when the elderly man was in DC.

 

"We don't know. Gibbs would never tell us. What about you, Fornell?"

 

Fornell leaned back as Elaine refilled his cup. "Nope, but I did hear the term 'bubble butt' come up one Christmas."

 

Tony frantically shook his head. "We don't need to talk about that one. What about you, Abby? What's your favorite Jackson story?"

 

She hadn't perked up at all. "I just remember how good his hugs would make me feel."

 

"Yes, even Jackie would come up with an excuse to drop by the Yard when Jack was visiting. Vance smiled as he remembered the visits and how much the kids enjoyed visiting with him. "He'd always have a magic trick ready when he saw the kids."

 

Ellie smiled at the image. "Aww, I wish I had gotten to meet him. What was it like, meeting him for the first time and on a case?"

 

"By the time I met him, we knew who he was." Tony picked at his napkin as he thought back. "It was Ziva and McGee that got to go to Stillwater first for that case. From what I heard, they were pretty surprised. I guess he was flirting with Ziva before they even knew who he was."

 

"Gibbs' dad was a flirt?"

 

Elaine returned with a tray of desserts just in time to hear Ellie's question. "Oh, honey, you have no idea. Especially when he put on that sweet country bumpkin face." She started handing out slices of cherry pie, warm with a scoop of ice cream on the tops. "Lord, that man was a charmer and he loved his cherry pie. Even when he was supposed to be watching his sugar, he'd sweet-talk one of my girls into getting him a slice."

 

Vance smiled at the memory, remembering Jackson getting an extra slice of chocolate cake out of Jackie a time or two. He raised his coffee cup, the rest of the table joining in a second later. "To Jackson."

 

"To Jackson."

 

"Here, here."

 

"To Jack."

 

"To Jackson."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

As they left the table, Gibbs could tell that Tim was still in pain. "Why don't you go on upstairs and I'll work on your back again after I finish up down here and grab a shower."

 

That sounded really good. "Thanks."

 

Ducky watched not only the exchange, but McGee's stiff movements as he walked up the stairs. "Normally I would recommend a hot bath or shower for those sore muscles, but there is too great of a risk of him becoming too over-heated right now."

 

"Yeah, I was afraid of that. How's he doing, Ducky, really?" There was no mistaking the concern on Gibbs' face as he walked to the linen closet and pulled down fresh sheets for the downstairs bedroom.

 

"In the morning I'll take some samples and have them run through the lab in Berwick just to be safe. I may have you take him to the local doctor's office for a chest x-ray tomorrow also. I believe he's back in town." Ducky was also concerned, enough to consider taking McGee with him, but he knew it would be less stressful on both men if he didn't. If the x-rays or lab results showed anything, Gibbs could bring him in quickly enough.

 

"You think he's starting to have some complications?"

 

"It's possible, Jethro. It's also possible that he's developing a simple upper respiratory infection, but the strain his body was under could cause additional problems."

 

"Pneumonia?"

 

"He will have a higher risk of it, certainly, but if it happens, we will be able to treat it. Now, I am perfectly capable of changing the sheets and putting away the leftovers. You go on upstairs and I'll see you both in the morning."

 

After saying his good night's to Ducky, Gibbs followed McGee up the stairs. In his old room, he stripped down and grabbed his kit and a towel.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Enough people had gone to the diner that they'd ended up carpooling. Jimmy didn't see Abby's car in the lot, so he made sure to be next to her as they walked out. "Need a ride back to the Yard?"

 

Abby looked first to Tony, but he was in a deep conversation with Bishop, Fornell and Vance and none of them looked like they were going anywhere for a few minutes. "Yeah, sure."

 

Just to make sure she didn't jump out and catch a ride with someone else, Jimmy waited until they were half way back to the Yard before he started talking. "You still think McGee didn't do enough to save Jackson?"

 

As he half suspected, she crossed her arms and glared at him. "I don't want to talk about McGee."

 

"Guess Tony and I will have to prove it to you tomorrow." And prove it to Tony, too, but he didn't say that out loud. Jimmy had a plan. It was going to take a lot of work, but he'd already gotten most of the information he needed.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The water felt good, but Gibbs didn't linger in the shower. He quickly dried off and slipped into a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before crossing the hall and lightly tapping on the door. When he heard Tim's soft 'come in' he opened the door.

 

McGee was sitting up on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers as he rubbed at his right knee. He stopped as Gibbs stepped into the room, but Gibbs noted the slight swelling below the knee cap. "That from banging around in the truck yesterday?"

 

"Yeah, I think so but it's not too bad."

 

It wasn't, and in his head Gibbs knew that, but it was one more piece of evidence as to how hard the day before had been. Gibbs picked the bottle of liniment up off the dresser as he walked to the bed. Sitting down on the edge, he shook out a few drops into his hand and started on McGee's right ankle.

 

Enjoying the little moans and purrs from McGee, Gibbs worked that leg up to his knee, paying special attention to every muscle, tendon and ligament in the swollen joint. Once he was done with that leg, he started on the other, adding more of the liniment to his hands as he worked. From there he worked his way up both legs, his hands creeping up a few inches past the hem of Tim's boxers.

 

Realizing how much he wanted to keep working further up Tim's legs pulled Gibbs back a little. He removed his hands from under the fabric and busied himself with the liniment for a few moments as he got himself back under control.

 

Tim opened his eyes and looked at him with such a peaceful expression that Gibbs couldn't pull away. He started on the fronts of Tim's shoulders and then down onto his chest. Even when his thumbs stroked across Tim's nipples, Tim didn't pull away from him, only gave him a soft smile.

 

Gibbs let his mind wander as he rubbed his hands over Tim's sides before lifting him up to work on his back. As the night before, Tim settled comfortably against him, his face snuggled against the crook of Gibbs' neck. Unlike with Tony, he'd never thought of himself of a surrogate father for Tim, but if anyone had asked him he would have admitted as deep of a love, perhaps even deeper. He'd just never analyzed exactly how those feelings were manifesting themselves. One thing he did know was that the timing of this revelation sucked.

 

Knowing it was for the best, when he'd worked all the muscles in Tim's back, he laid him back down on the bed and prepared to leave. Tim looked to be asleep, but his eyes opened a slit and he took Gibbs' hand, holding him there. "Stay."

 

He opened his mouth to say no, he really did, but what came out was a yes.

 

 

 


	11. Schooled by Jimmy

Abby looked as unhappy as he felt as she climbed out of her car to join him. He wondered if she had any details. "Any idea what's up?"

 

She slammed the car door hard before walking over to him. "You mean besides the fact that Palmer is acting like he's in charge of the Agency, ordering us here two hours early? He didn't tell you either?"

 

Tony raked his hand through his hair. A cryptic phone call had woken him way before his alarm was set to ring with Palmer telling him to be at the Yard by 0600, Tony reacting automatically to the authoritative tone in his voice. "Come on, let's just get it over."

 

They both signed in and went down to the basement. Palmer was waiting for them with a snow shovel and a stack of clothes. "You guys have any breakthrough about McGee last night?"

 

"If we said yes, could we go back home for a couple of hours? Come on, Palmer, we talked about this yesterday. McGee did everything he could, it just wasn't enough."

 

"But you've still got this nagging little voice telling you that you could have done more, right?"

 

He didn't get an answer, but Tony's eyes flickered over to look at Abby for a split second. Her jaw was set and she was glaring at Palmer.

 

"Okay, let's prove it."

 

"What?" Tony turned his attention back to Palmer just in time to catch the jeans and sweatshirt that was tossed at him. A heavy canvas coat with a thick lining came next.

 

"Let's recreate the scene, that's what we do, right? That way we'll know exactly how easy it would have been to save Jackson. Isn't that right, Abby? After all, if a day of thinking about it hasn't changed your mind, maybe seeing it with your own eyes will."

 

Despite his inner doubts, Tony didn't want to do this. "Palmer, I don't..."

 

"What's the matter, Tony, chicken?"

 

Cornered, Tony stormed into the small room Palmer and Ducky used as a dressing room. When he came out Abby was drawing a diagram on Jackson's property on the white board while Jimmy supervised. Jimmy looked up and handed another marker to Tony. "Make any changes you think it needs and write down all the measurements you can remember."

 

Tony closed his eyes for a moment as he pictured Jackson's house and property, then opened them to study Abby's drawing. It was pretty close, but he changed a few details and starting writing down the distances between the various landmarks. "There, now what?"

 

"Okay, so if the snow from here to here was dug out, how man cubic feet of snow would that be?"

 

Abby looked at their drawing. "It depends on how deep it was."

 

"Deeper than it is here – almost double." Jimmy handed the shovel to Tony. "Consider that a gift. I figure from the service exit door to the north end of the building would be about equal to the distance Tim dug, even it it's only half as deep."

 

"And then what?" Tony threw the shovel down onto the floor. "What the hell is this going to prove?"

 

In answer, Jimmy pulled the sheet back off of one of the tables to show the CPR dummy they used in training. "Then we'll see just how long you could keep it up."

 

"Fine." Tony scooped the shovel back up and stormed out. He couldn't even express why he was so angry all of a sudden. Outside, he started shoveling. By the time he was at the end of the building, he'd burned through his anger along with his energy. "Okay, I get it."

 

"Body's on the floor, Tony. Clock's ticking." Palmer was standing there with a stopwatch. "You're the expert, right?"

 

Groaning, Tony lumbered back to the door, wondering why he hadn't jumped down Abby's throat in the beginning instead of letting her get to him. Once inside Autopsy, he peeled off his coat and dropped down to his knees. Palmer gave him a funny look at the deviation, but didn't say anything as Tony shook his head. "No point in giving myself heat stroke just to make the point, Palmer."

 

Before he could start, Palmer tossed a small notebook on the other side of the DPR dummy. "There's your phone, remember that you have to be talking to the 911 dispatch at the same time."

 

"Shit." Tony struggled with getting his rhythm started as he leaned closer to the notebook. He started to rattle off the required information, then faltered as he saw that the actual transcript was printed out for him. Knowing it was exactly what Jimmy wanted from him, he read off Tim's exact words as Jimmy played the part of the dispatcher.

 

"911, police, fire or medical?"

 

"Medical, I need a bus, I think he's had a heart attack." Tony was finding it very hard to talk as he worked.

 

"You're calling from a cell phone, sir. I need an address."

 

"What?" Tony looked up at Palmer. "The address?"

 

"Figure it out, clock's ticking." Palmer held up the stopwatch as Abby started crying behind them.

 

"I don't know." Tony could feel the panic building as the CPR dummy beeped a warning that he wasn't giving enough pressure on the chest plate. "I can't talk and do this, Palmer."

 

"Then just do the CPR and we'll listen to the recording, okay?" Jimmy pulled a small tape player out of his pocket and turned it on.

 

_Is someone giving the victim CPR?_

 

 _"I am."_ They could hear him panting and struggling to speak

 

_Are you alone with the victim?_

 

_"Yes! Three... four... five... How soon?"_

 

_ETA on the ambulance is fifteen minutes, sir. Local officers have been notified._

 

_"Are they coming?"_

 

_ETA unknown, sir._

 

_"Damn it, we need help now."_

 

Hearing the panic in McGee's voice made it real and gave Tony a burst of energy. It seemed like forever before the dispatcher came back.

 

_We're checking, sir._

 

Another seemingly long wait before a different voice came on the line.

 

_All right, son, how you doing? My name is Daniel and we're going to get you through this. Now, what's your name._

 

_"Tim, I'm Tim. We need help."_

 

_We know, son. Sheriff Gantry is on his way, but he's way out on the north side of town, almost to Maple Grove. It's going to take him a while to get through the snow. One of his deputies is trying to get back from Waterton. They're the only two on duty today, Tim._

 

More time passed. Tony had all but given up on the rescue breathing to focus on the compressions.

 

_"Where's the damn ambulance?"_

 

_We're trying to raise them now, Tim. Hold on._

 

Tony's compressions slowed down and his head dropped as he imagined the scene. His arms were already burning and the few minutes of rescue breathing he'd done left him too winded to do more than whisper. Hearing the almost sub-vocal count the recording barely picked up told him of the determination of his partner. "I can't do any more."

 

"Tony!"

 

He had to take a few deep breaths before he could answer her. "No, Abby. I can't. Maybe a few more minutes, but not enough to do any good. I couldn't have saved him either." God, those words hurt to say. He dropped onto his butt and scooted back far enough to lean against the nearest table. Abby joined him and buried her face in his shoulder and cried as they listened to the rest of the recording and Palmer calmly counting off how much time had lapsed.

 

"Fifteen minutes."

 

"Eighteen minutes." Abby started crying harder.

 

"Twenty minutes." Tony gave up trying to blink back the tears.

 

_"Where's the damn ambulance?"_

 

_We're trying to raise them now, Tim. Hold on._

 

They could hear some muffled noises in the background and obviously Tim had heard them, too.

 

_"What? What's happening? How much longer?"_

 

_The ambulance went off the road and rolled. We're going to try to..._

 

They could hear the near panic in his voice. _"No! He needs help now. How long for another ambulance?"_

 

_There's been a multi-car pile up on Interstate Eighty. All the other ambulances in the area are there, but we're trying to reroute one now. Just stay calm, Tim, you're doing fine._

 

 _"He's not! Please..."_ They could tell that Tim was struggling physically at this point. _"You have to help us."_

 

_You're inside the house? Can you see anyone outside? Do you know any of the neighbors?_

 

_"No, no one. I... I don't live here, I don't even know who to find."_

 

_Okay, Tim, I'm going to try and get the Sheriff on another line. Just hang on._

 

_"Yeah, sure."_ They could hear Tim counting to himself, no longer the sub-vocalization from earlier. Tony suspected that he was struggling to keep the count straight as the obvious exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm him. Listening to round after round, Tony wanted to reach through the recorder and stop Tim from hurting himself any further.

 

_Sheriff's close, Tim. He'll be there in a few minutes. Listen for his siren. Tell me when you hear it._

 

_"Yeah, okay."_

 

Time seemed to stand still for Tony as he listened to McGee's continuing struggle to keep Jackson alive.

 

_"I hear it, I hear a siren."_

 

"Please tell me that Gantry made him stop."

 

Jimmy turned off the audio player and sat down next to them. "He couldn't. Tim wouldn't listen to anyone about giving up. They carried Jackson out to the Sheriff's truck and Tim went right back to performing CPR." Now that they were ready to really listen, Palmer explained everything that had happened on the trip to Berwick right up through McGee's collapse after calling Ducky, giving them more detail than Dr. Mallard had earlier.

 

"Is McGee going to be all right?"

 

Palmer didn't answer Tony's question right away, which alarmed Abby and she finally looked up. "Jimmy?"

 

Sighing, Jimmy told them what he could. "He's showing a few symptoms that suggest he might be developing some complications. Dr. Mallard is running a couple of tests today and he's going to send him for a set of x-rays."

 

Tony tried to read the expression on Palmer's face. "What kind of complications?"

 

"He's got a cough starting. Heat stroke can damage both the lungs and the kidneys and either one could cause a cough."

 

"Why would the kidneys be causing a cough?"

 

Abby answered before Jimmy could. "Because if his kidneys are shutting down, the excess fluid would be collecting around his heart and his lungs. The damage to his ribs..."

 

"Affects his ability to breathe deeply and makes any possible problem worse." Jimmy gave her a nod. "Yeah, Dr. Mallard is worried about it."

 

Tony was still trying to read Palmer's expression and not liking what he was picking up. "You're worried, too."

 

"Yeah, I did some research last night after I talked to Dr. Mallard. Something that was kinda weird..."

 

"Weird how, Jimmy?" The fear was slowly building up in Abby's voice.

 

"Okay, it was just one research paper, but..."

 

"But?"

 

"A hospital in Chicago tracked all of the heat stroke patients they had in a year and most of them eventually developed permanent problems."

 

"But the rest were okay, right?"

 

Tony's question hit at the heart of the matter. "No, Tony, they died."

 

"Oh, God."

 

Abby shook her head. "Numbers, Jimmy. I need numbers."

 

He could still see the numbers when he closed his eyes. "Fifty-eight original victims, twelve died after they'd been released from the hospital – most in the first three months. All the rest showed some level of brain or nervous system disorder. Half developed kidney problems or blood clots and about ten percent had something go wrong with their lungs."

 

Abby was just staring at Palmer, but Tony needed more information. "Why isn't he still in the hospital?"

 

"There's nothing they can do. We just have to wait and see what happens."

 

"Wait and see? Wait and see?" The realization was on Abby's face, it was apparent that she finally knew she'd screwed up. "No, we have to do something."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Once again, Gibbs woke feeling more comfortable and content than he probably had the right to be under the circumstances. He laid still for the moment, enjoying the feel of Tim nestled against him. He'd taken his t-shirt off last night and he reveled in the feel of Tim's lips against his skin. Without conscious thought his hand started to trace random circles on Tim's back and he was rewarded a moment later with a gentle kiss to his chest.

 

"Didn't mean to wake you."

 

"It's okay, I can't think of a better way to wake up." Tim tilted his head up to smile at Gibbs.

 

They'd done no more than some kissing and heavy petting the night before, but he felt more connected to Tim than he'd felt to any one in a very long time. "Yeah, me either." He brushed his lips across Tim's before shifting them both in order to get up. "I think Ducky wants to take some samples this morning. I'll go find out what the game plan is before you get up, okay?"

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, real research study. I did my homework.


	12. Caught by Ducky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a panic - was sick for a few days and then I couldn't find my notebook. Not 100% yet, but I did sort out all my story notes for everything I'm developing so I'm back on track.

 

 

Ducky was up well before dawn, knowing what was happening in DC. He expected a call from either Abby or Tony if Jimmy had not been successful. What he finally got after a several hour wait was a short text from his assistant.

 

_The eagle has landed_.

 

Ducky shook his head and chuckled at the cryptic words. "Oh, Mr. Palmer." He assumed that actually meant success, but he'd apparently have to wait for more details. Deciding to let Gibbs know what was going on, he crept up the stairs, bringing his bag so he could also check on McGee.

 

The boyhood bedroom of Leroy Jethro Gibbs would have made him smile – if it wasn't for the unmade bed. Before Ducky could start checking for a basement, the door to the guest room opened and the missing man crept out wearing only a pair of boxers, a t-shirt in his hand.

 

Gibbs looked a little surprise and guilty being caught like that. "Ducky."

 

Perhaps he'd made the bed when he'd gotten up. "Jethro, did Timothy take a turn for the worse? Is that why you're up so early?" Looking back at the twin sized bed with the perfectly draped plaid cover, Ducky knew his first instinct had been right. Crossing his arms over his chest, Ducky assumed the same expression that he'd used when disciplining his late mother's Corgi's. "What, exactly, were you doing last night?"

 

Gibbs ears were red, but he stood straight and looked Ducky directly in the eye. "Less than you think, but probably more than I should have."

 

"Really, Jethro, I understand that this is a very difficult time for you, but to take such liberties... Timothy trusts you with everything he has and more. What, pray tell, are your feelings toward him? Your real feeling, not the knee-jerk reactions of a man in pain."

 

"You mean the feelings I've been hiding for the last ten years?"

 

"Jethro?"

 

"I know, Duck. I know. The timing's lousy but all those years ago, when he stood toe to toe with me that day in Norfolk, I felt something I thought I'd never feel again."

 

"And now?"

 

"Now, I don't know, but I'm tired of hiding it." He gave a soft smile, something that Ducky had rarely seen. "Life's too short to put off what's really important and Tim's very important to me."

 

"I see." He did, really, but it didn't answer the question of Timothy. Was he swept up in the moment, was he still feeling guilty for not being able to save Jackson, or was it more. "Well, why don't you go downstairs and fix some of that decaffeinated coffee for the two of you while I examine your young man."

 

The unspoken 'stay downstairs so I can speak to McGee in private' was heard loud and clear. "Yeah, sure, Duck. Can I grab some pants first?"

 

The eyebrow went up and Ducky stepped out of doorway into his old room. "Some breakfast while you're down there would be nice, too, Jethro."

 

"Yeah, I hear you."

 

Ducky stayed in the hallway until Gibbs was dressed and downstairs. Only then did he softly knock on the closed bedroom door before letting himself in. Tim was awake and sitting up, obviously waiting for him. "How are you feeling, Lad?"

 

"Really need to pee, but Jethro thought you'd want a urine sample this morning. Mid-stream, right?"

 

The actual question had been neatly avoided, Ducky noted as he pulled a large specimen container out of his bag along with a pair of latex gloves. "Actually, we need to monitor your total output today, so I'll want it all. You do that while I prepare to take a few blood samples."

 

Ducky didn't leave, but he did keep his back turned as he set out his syringe and small test tubes to give McGee at least the illusion of privacy. When he heard Tim finish, he turned back around as Tim snapped the lid in place. The liquid inside was a deep orange, but not brown, the most visible sign of kidney damage.

 

"Lots of liquids today, young man. I will allow you to have one cup of decaffeinated coffee with each meal today, but other than that, drink water. Lots of water and chart exactly how much liquid you take in and how much your body produces."

 

"Ducky, I don't feel that bad, really."

 

"Kidney damage is not like the common cold, Timothy. By the time you start to actually feel it, a great deal of damage has already been done. Let's see if we can prevent that from happening, all right?"

 

"Okay."

 

Ducky wiped down the spot on McGee's arm where he was going to draw the blood then deftly slid the needle into the skin, finding the vein with the first attempt. He watched Tim closely, but other than studiously avoiding looking at the blood filling the tube, he looked normal and calm. Ducky waited until he was finished and had a folded piece of gauze pressed against the spot.

 

"Timothy, as your physician, I feel a certain amount of responsibility toward you. As your friend, I worry about you and don't want to see you hurt in any way."

 

"Jethro isn't going to hurt me."

 

The easy way Gibbs' given name was rolling off Tim's tongue this morning actually told Ducky a great deal, but he wasn't done yet. "No, not deliberately, of course. However..."

 

"He's hurting and I've always done anything he asked or wanted?"

 

Tim's words pretty much hit on all of Ducky's concerns. "Yes, that does worry me, I must admit. You have never given any of us any indication that you – swung – that way." Knowing he was saying it badly had Ducky wincing.

 

"I've always known I was bi, Ducky." Tim shrugged as he stared at Ducky and the older man could feel Tim's need to be understood. "Believe me, as the son of John McGee, I learned at an early age to keep it very well hidden."

 

Ducky sensed he wasn't finished and kept quiet. "I never acted on it because I never met a man that was worth the risk, you know? At least, not until I met Jethro."

 

This time he had to ask. "When did you first know?"

 

"In a pure, yeah, I'd let him bend me over and have me? That first case in Norfolk. Everyone thinks I was scared to death of him, but I was actually scared that I'd give myself away. On a deeper level?"

 

Ducky nodded, but again remained silent.

 

"When Sarah was in trouble. The look in his eyes when he asked why I didn't come to him. That's when I knew I'd never do anything to worry him again. I tried to tell myself that it was because I respected him so much, but then after the bombing and he found me – when he touched my face, I couldn't deny it anymore. I'm in love with him. It's not something that just happened and it's not something that's just going to fade away and I can't pretend any more. I know how hard this is going to be and I know his history."

 

"What if things don't work out?"

 

"What if they do?" Tim smiled as he shrugged. "I've spent almost a third of my life wishing and dreaming that he could love me back. Now that I know he does, I have to try. What is that old saying? It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? He's worth it to me."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Walking downstairs, Ducky stayed right at McGee's elbow, but he made it down the stairs just fine, even if that nagging cough was still there. They could hear Gibbs in the kitchen and much to Ducky's surprise he had a full breakfast going on the stove.

 

"Looks good." Tim smiled and leaned in for a kiss.

 

"This is real food, Jethro." Ducky actually had a lot more to say on the subject, but he looked up to see the tender kiss between the two men. There was a softness in the usually hard blue eyes that he'd never seen through all the various ex-wives and girlfriends he'd known over the years while McGee showed a contentment unlike anything Ducky had ever seen in him. All in all, it told him more than either of the two conversations he'd had upstairs.

 

The kiss finally ended, but Gibbs was still looking at Tim as he answered Ducky. "Nothing fancy, but I haven't starved yet, Duck. Just don't tell DiNozzo."

 

"He'd never believe me if I did." Ducky shook his head and sat at the table to watch the two men. They looked so comfortable together that he didn't understand why he hadn't noticed it before. Or why they hadn't either, for that matter. He didn't realize he'd barked out a laugh until Gibbs turned and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

 

Ducky laughed and shook his head again. "Heavens, now that I know, it's as plain as the nose on my face. I don't know why... well, it is obvious that the two of you are good for each other. As your friend, I suppose I can't ask for more than that."

 

"Thanks, Ducky." Spatula in hand, Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tim's waist, his chest pressed against Tim's back, and rested his chin on Tim's shoulder. "That means a lot." One more kiss and they joined Ducky at the table.

 

The three men quietly ate their food before Ducky stood up and took his empty plate to the sink. "A breakfast cooked by Jethro Gibbs, himself. Will wonders never cease? Well, I am off to Berwick. If any of the tests come back worrisome, I will call and expect you back at the hospital, young man."

 

"Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets there if you give the word." The smirk he gave Tim didn't quite wipe away the worry in his eyes.

 

"Good. Anytime after ten o'clock you can pop over to Dr. Ward's office for your new chest x-ray. I assume you know where it is?"

 

"The town's not that big, Ducky. I'll figure it out."

 

"It's behind the barber shop."

 

Ducky's eyes widened at Gibbs' answer. "How interesting. Did you know that back in the eighteen-hundreds, a town barber would also serve as a surgeon when needed?"

 

Gibbs didn't want to let Ducky get too sidetracked so he also stood and started to clear away the rest of the dishes. "Old man Mulroney's been the town barber since I was a kid, been renting the back of his place out almost as long."

 

Needing to leave, Gibbs poured himself another cup of coffee and pulled on his coat. "I'm going to go get the store opened up for the day. Tim, can you go through his laptop and see if you can find any records on his accounts? There's supposed to be a dairy delivery this morning." He found a water bottle in the refrigerator and set it in front of Tim before kissing him again. "Call me when you find something or if you need anything at all."

 

"I will." Tim enjoyed the warmth of the calloused hand against his cheek before turning his head enough to plant a quick peck against the palm. They exchanged a smile and then Gibbs left out the back door and Ducky left out the front. Tim waited a few seconds, making sure he was totally alone before he gave into the cough that had been building.

 

 


	13. The Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday, but I got sidetracked researching inheritance taxes in Pennsylvania. Just so that you know, when the direct descendant is over the age of 21, it's a tax rate of 4.5%. Children under the age of 21 and spouses do not pay anything. Siblings pay a rate of 12% and others pay a rate of 15%. Pennsylvania is only one of a handful of states that has an inheritance tax instead of an estate tax. Your lesson for the day. Now onto the story. A shorter chapter today, but that's where it needed to break.

 

 

 

"Hello, Jethro. I've come to pay my condolences."

 

Gibbs barely had the front door unlocked when Chuck Winslow opened it and walked in. "Chuck," Gibbs gave him a nod before moving back to the register to finish getting ready for the day.

 

Winslow wandered around, picking things up and putting them back down. "I must admit I was surprised when I heard you were running the store."

 

"It's the only store in town. Somebody needs to." Gibbs was keenly aware of where the other man was, but refused to look up at him, instead concentrating on counting out the cash for the day.

 

"That's what I came to talk to you about." Pleasantries over, Winslow stood in front of Gibbs. "I'd like to make an offer on the store, bring it under the Winslow umbrella."

 

"It's the last step in making this a real company town, right, Chuck?"

 

"I'm glad we see eye to eye. I'll have my lawyer write up an offer for you and drop it off later today or tomorrow. We can have this whole thing settled before the funeral. That's Sunday, right?"

 

Sunday funerals had been the tradition in Stillwater as long as Gibbs could remember. Probably because it was the only day Winslow Mining would allow all of their employees to miss. He thought about throwing a monkey wrench in the works by setting a different day, but the whole town was also assuming the same thing and already planning for it. "Yeah, Sunday."

 

"Good." Winslow picked up an apple from the pile and took a bite. Gibbs cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look and Winslow tossed a dollar on the counter as he walked out the door.

 

Picking up the wadded bill, Gibbs smoothed it out before placing it in the cash register. The store was the one place Winslow Mining had never been able to touch. Jackson had resisted every effort to accept a partnership or even a loan from his former employer.

 

He felt his father's presence in this place even more than in the home he'd grown up in. "Ah, hell, Dad, what did you expect me to do with the store? I wish you'd told me what you wanted." His phone rang at that moment, the timing causing him to blink, then chuckle at himself as he answered it. "Yeah, Gibbs."

 

_Is there a printer there, maybe under the counter?_

 

Gibbs automatically looked without questioning Tim as to why. "Yeah, there is. A pretty new one, even got a cable attached to it. That's to connect it to his laptop?"

 

_Yep. See you in a minute._

 

"Wait. You sure you should walk over here? I can run back and get it."

 

_No, that's okay. Besides, the delivery truck should be there any time._

 

Sure enough, a box van was coming down the main street toward the store. "Yeah, I think they're here.

 

_Be there in a minute._

 

Distracted by his worry for Tim, Gibbs didn't react at first when the delivery driver handed him the invoice marked COD. It was only when the driver stood there, refusing to unload, that Gibbs read the amount, noting the pencil scribble through the usual payment method, making it almost impossible to read.

 

"Nothing personal, but the boss wants cash today instead of a check. The bank probably won't accept a check if the old man is dead."

 

Gibbs eyes narrowed at the crass statement, but he knew that technically the driver was right. Sighing, he walked into the storeroom and started to open the safe. Luckily, he hadn't made the bank deposit yet as the register didn't contain enough cash to cover it. Before he could open the safe he heard the bell on the back door, then Tim's voice, sounding slightly out of breath.

 

"Ah, you're here, good. Give me just a second to print up our copy of the paid invoice and then I'll check off everything you delivered."

 

Now that his mother's curtain was down, Gibbs was able to lean against the doorway and glare of the driver as he started to defend his actions.

 

"After the owner of the account dies, the bank can stop any payment on the account. We just..."

 

"Then it's a good thing the payment went through the day before Jackson passed, isn't it? That way we don't have to discuss your limited knowledge of banking practices." Tim had the laptop plugged into the printer and it was already churning out the needed page. "I've also verified with the bank that they funds were transferred. Would you like a printout of that, too?"

 

"No. Thwarted in his attempt, the driver went out to the truck and started unloading. Gibbs watched in amusement as Tim checked every carton, making the driver count every bottle of milk and open every carton of eggs to check for breakage. Once that was done and Tim mentioned calling the head office to discuss the breakdown in billing information, three cases of yogurt were added as a 'condolence gift' to the regular order.

 

Finally letting loose with the chuckle that had been building, Gibbs walked over and wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders as they watched the truck pull away. "That was amazing to watch, but what are we going to do with all that yogurt? I'm not sure anyone in Stillwater eats yogurt."

 

Tim was enjoying the sensation of Jethro's arm around him. "Everybody eats yogurt."

 

"I don't eat yogurt." Gibbs eyes widened as Tim got very still pressed up against him. "Tim?"

 

Licking his lips and taking a deep breath, Tim shifted enough to look him in the eye. "You know the deli on J Street that we get lunch from sometimes?"

 

"Yeah..." It was on their regular lunch rotation and Gibbs really liked the place, except for their coleslaw. It was way too sweet for his taste.

 

"And you don't like the coleslaw, so we always get you the fruit salad..."

 

"With the creamy strawberry dressing. Yeah, that's pretty good, what about it?" In the silence, Gibbs used his investigative skills. "That's yogurt?"

 

"And the really good soft-serve ice cream that Ellie brought back last week? That wasn't exactly ice cream."

 

"It wasn't?"

 

"Nope. That was frozen yogurt."

 

"Well, hell." Being fooled once was bad enough, but twice?

 

"And the dollop of what looks like sour cream on the lentil soup Tony brings back from the curry shop?"

 

Gibbs realized that the creamy swirl on his favorite soup from there was a little tangier than the sour cream he put on his baked potatoes. "That's yogurt, too?"

 

"Actually, it's tofu." Tim kept a straight face for a few seconds before bursting out into laughter and Gibbs could only imagine the expression on his own face.

 

"You brat." Shaking his head he laughed, too, until Tim started coughing. "Easy, you okay?"

 

"Yeah." Tim had to stop and cough again. "Totally worth it to see you laugh."

 

It felt good to laugh again with someone he loved and he laughed again as he pulled Tim close. "My brat." He felt Tim's arms tighten around him.

 

"Always."

 

Gibbs returned the squeeze and topped it off with a kiss. Life was too short to miss a moment and it started today.

 

The delivery was done so Gibbs put the sign on the door that stated 'back in twenty minutes' and steered Tim out of the building. Locking the door behind them, he pointed out the barber shop several doors down and across the street. "Come on, let's go get your x-ray."

 

 


	14. The Take Down

 

 

"Well?"

 

Dr. Ward turned, only to find himself nose to nose with Gibbs and took a step back on pure instinct. "Hello, Jethro. I am so sorry about your father. I'd been trying to get him to go to the specialist for weeks, but he wouldn't let me call you."

 

"Appreciate that, Doc, but what's done is done. Right now my concern is Tim."

 

Luckily, his patient had already given permission to discuss anything about his care with Gibbs. Dr. Ward turned back to the x-ray he'd been studying and pointed out the area he'd been studying. "There's some inflammation showing up in Tim's lungs."

 

"How bad?"

 

"It depends on what his other tests show. I'll consult with Dr. Mallard when he has those results, but I suspect we'll start him on an anti-inflammatory, or possibly some corticosteroids. The bruising is causing him to take shallow breaths, which isn't helping." Dr. Ward had heard the story from Sheriff Gantry before he'd talked to Dr. Mallard and thought he understood Jethro's worry. "We don't have much of a pharmacy here in Stillwater, so we'll start him on some aspirin for now and Dr. Mallard will bring back what he needs when he returns from Berwick. His kidney function will determine exactly what we use."

 

"And you're sure that Tim doesn't need to go to the hospital?"

 

There was no point in worrying the man before they had all the results. "It's always better to start with a conservative treatment until we know more. If his kidney function is severely compromised, we'll have to try a different approach. For now, we'll start with the 81 mg aspirin every four hours. That will give him the maximum effect for the inflammation while being the easiest on his kidneys."

 

"Okay."

 

Jethro sounded more like a worried family member than a work supervisor, giving credence to the rumors that has started floating around town, so Dr. Ward rushed to reassure him. "He's not going to recover overnight, Jethro. Giving the circumstances, he's doing quite well."

 

It was apparent that he wasn't going to get any more information until Ducky was back later tonight. "All right. So, I can take him home?"

 

The bright wall light used to read x-rays was in the hallway and Ward just pointed to a numbered door. "Yes. Agent McGee is right in there. I'll send the scan to Dr. Mallard so he can review it while he's still in Berwick." The town doctor didn't pay any attention to the look on Gibbs' face as he used his phone to take a picture of the illuminated image and email it to the Berwick Hospital Radiology Department. Little towns, after all, have to be creative with technology.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Several of the more common forms of antibiotics, plus the regular medications for the town folk were available in what had to be the world's smallest pharmacy – one shelf behind Dr. Ward's office desk. Aspirin was available at the local store. In other words, it was another reminder of how important the small store was to the town of Stillwater.

 

Gibbs was reading the fine print, deciding which of the three types there would be the best option when he heard the front door open. He didn't want McGee moving around more than he had to, so he circled around to greet the new shopper. It was a face he hadn't seen in years as the man headed for the counter where McGee was waiting.

 

"George?"

 

The white-haired man turned around and smiled. "Leroy, boy, how are you?" He took a few steps to meet Gibbs and shook his hand before pulling him into a hug. "I would have been here sooner but I was stuck waiting for the plows."

 

"Understood. Let me introduce you to Tim." Gibbs walked him back to the counter as he talked. "Tim, this is George Anderson, the lawyer for pretty much everyone within fifty miles of here. George, this is Tim McGee. He's someone very special to me and he was with Jack when he... he was with him at the end."

 

McGee smiled and offered his hand. "Mr. Anderson, it's nice to meet you, I just wish it were under better circumstances."

 

"Agreed, and call me George, please. We're pretty informal around these parts."

 

"All right, and it's Tim. I assume you're here to talk to Jethro about his father's estate." Tim turned back to Gibbs. "Do you want me to watch the store so the two of you can talk in private?"

 

Gibbs rubbed Tim's back and shook his head. He'd been watching closely and could tell that even though he was trying to hide it, Tim's cough was worse the more he moved around. Keeping him close sounded like a good idea. "No, besides I'd like your input on what to do with this – assuming that he didn't leave everything to a charity. Which might have been easier." Gibbs shrugged as he admitted to himself how little he was looking forward to dealing with his father's estate.

 

"No, Jethro. Jackson left everything to you. He always told me that when it came to it, you'd know what to do." Anderson set his briefcase on the large table in the center of the store and when the other two men joined him they all sat down.

 

Gibbs pursed his lips together as he read over the list Anderson handed him. Jackson owned the house and the store outright, the mortgages on the two building having been paid off years ago. In addition, there was a tidy savings account that surprised him. His father could have sold the store and retired years ago. Apparently he said that last part out loud because Anderson answered him.

 

"Jackson actually talked about selling at one point. A young man that worked for him years ago was interested, but nothing ever came of it. Probably because a man like Jackson needed something to keep him busy."

 

"Yeah, probably." Gibbs snorted as he remembered the months Jackson stayed with him after the Reynosa cartel shot up the store. He'd been bored and restless and drove his security detail up the wall until Jethro had found him something to do. "I can't stay here and run it, but I sure the hell don't want to sell the store to Winslow Mining."

 

"They want it?" That had been the first McGee had heard about that possibility. "Why?"

 

"Because this is the only place in town they don't have their fingers in. Dad refused every effort they made to get involved and it'd be a slap in his face to just sign it over now."

 

"I'll go through Jackson's correspondences and see if I can track down who was interested. You have a price in mind?"

 

"Enough to pay the inheritance taxes? Hell, I don't need the money, that's not what's important." Gibbs looked around at the store, he'd always remember his dad behind the counter, taking care of his neighbors. "What's important is that Jack's dreams for the place don't die with him."

 

Tim wrapped his fingers around Gibbs' hand. "I'll take care of it, Jethro."

 

The time of the funeral was set with George Anderson promising to taking care of the details before he left. Once they were alone, Gibbs stroked his hand down the side of Tim's face. "If I let you go back to the house, will you take it easy or do you need me to drag the recliner over here?"

 

It was close, but Tim didn't roll his eyes. "I'll be fine, Jethro." When he just got the look, Tim amended his statement. "I will rest on the sofa with Jackson's laptop and see if I can find any hints about who might be interested in buying the store."

 

Gibbs seemed pleased, but continued to look at him, so Tim tried again. "And I will drink plenty of water, measure my pee and take my aspirin right on schedule."

 

"Thank you." Gibbs brushed his lips across Tim's before he leaned his forehead against Tim's head. "I spent so many years denying what I feel about you, even to myself and like I told Ducky, life's too short to put off what's really important and you're so very important to me. I need you to be all right."

 

"I will be." Tim didn't want to dislodge Gibbs, even though they were in an awkward position at the moment, but he was able to kiss a spot of skin on the side of Gibbs' jaw. "I have too much to look forward to now. So, do what you need to do and I'll be right where I'm supposed to be, okay?"

 

Gibbs watched out the back door until Tim was safely back across the yard and in the house before he pulled out his phone. The first call, especially, was going to be hard. "Hey, LJ, it's Jethro. I... I need to tell you about my dad."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony grinned at Ellie, he'd been a bundle of energy all morning. "You ready? Because it's showtime." She watched in amazement as the mask firmly slid into place and a hard-core Fed stepped out of the elevator and strode across the transfer area where prisoners waited to be returned to their cells. She blinked and scrambled to keep up. Tony didn't slow down until he was standing nose to nose with Carter.

 

As planned, Carter was leading Miller out of one of the interrogation rooms, while Franklin, the quiet agent that hadn't said much the day before, was watching over Lee, who was slouched over in a chair. A nonchalant look was on Lee's face, but they could see that he was taking in everything.

 

Tony held up his badge while, behind him, Bishop held up the paperwork. "I'm taking one of your prisoners."

 

"I don't think so." Carter played his role perfectly, arms crossed over his chest. "Since when does NCIS have jurisdiction over the FBI?"

 

"Since we're the ones with fingerprints and fibers and assorted evidence linking one of your suspects to our dead petty officer, it supersedes your case." Tony gave a hard smile. "The Navy doesn't look kindly on the death of one of their up and coming officers."

 

Lee's eyes flickered up for just a split second before the casual look returned, but both Tony and Carter caught it. Miller was already starting to stress. He didn't say anything, but his panicked glance over at the older criminal told them plenty.

 

Carter made a show of looking through the papers Bishop handed him. "Well, everything looks in order. You can take Lee and we'll hang onto Miller, at least for now."

 

"That's fine. If we can link him as an accessory, we'll be back for him. After all, we can send him to Gitmo. All you guys can do is put him in a cushy federal pen for ten to twenty."

 

Lee didn't say anything until they were in the car, pulling into to the Yard. "You can't pin a murder on me."

 

Technically, they couldn't. Especially since Petty Officer Moyers had fallen to his death sneaking into the large warehouse where the weapons had been stolen from, in an apparent attempt to retrieve his lost cell phone. They were counting on the fact that Miller wouldn't know that. Tony shrugged and looked up at Ellie, who was driving. "Yours were the only civilian fingerprints in the place. Somebody's got to take the fall. Either you or Miller are going down for it. Now, my money is on you taking the rap, but let's see who cuts a deal first. Either way, I've got an arrest in my column. Hey, you hungry, Bishop?"

 

If she was startled by the question, she didn't show it. "You buying?"

 

"Sure, closing a case always puts me in a good mood. We'll stick this guy in our lock-up and hit the diner. I bet by the time we get back, the Fee-Bee's will already have a signed statement from the lackey and we won't even have to bother dragging this one into interrogation."

 

"Now, wait a minute. I demand to make my statement as soon as we get there."

 

They were at the entrance where prisoners were delivered and Tony climbed out of the back seat, dragging Lee with him, who was suddenly in a hurry to get to where they were going. "Hey, it'll take a couple of hours for your lawyer to get here. You know, he's got to be officially informed of your transfer after you're logged in here."

 

Bishop beamed at their prisoner as she signed them in. "Of course, your partner won't have to wait since his lawyer was already at FBI Headquarters. Is today's lunch special the meat loaf or the fried chicken?"

 

Tony pretended to think about it as Lee showed his first signs of panic. "Actually, I think it's the hot roast beef sandwich with gravy today."

 

You could always count of Bishop to get excited about food, and she didn't even have to act. "Oh, you are so buying me extra mashed potatoes, then."

 

"Fine, then I'm getting the pie for dessert."

 

"Cherry?"

 

"No, we had the cherry pie yesterday. I'm thinking peach, or banana cream."

 

"Banana cream is my husband's favorite. Can we get an extra slice and drop it off at his office?"

 

"Hey, hey, hey! Forget your damn pie, lady. I want to make my statement now. To hell with waiting for my lawyer."

 

"You sure?" Tony was all business now. "Are you officially waving your right to have your lawyer present while you're being questioned?"

 

"Yeah, let's just hurry up, okay? Before that idiot hangs me out to dry to save his own hide."

 

 


	15. Phone Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n - Hi all, didn't mean to worry any of you by dropping off the face of the Earth for a while. I got stuck on the beginning of this chapter and them got sick again. Rather than stress about it, I decided to just let the story brew for what should have been a few days and outline a new story that had been haunting me (when I'm sick I tend to work on something new since I can't keep track of all the characters and details of an established story as well). I've done that lots before and usually it just takes a few days, maybe a week to get the problem chapter sorted out. This time it took a lot longer, but now this story is flowing again (finished three chapters in the last five days) so I'm back at it. 
> 
> Didn't mean to ignore anyone but I didn't even log in to realize folks were checking up on me. On the plus side, that story idea I outlined while I was stuck on this one? It will be a huge McNozzo with a large side of PapaGibbs. 80% of it is ready to write - outlined/chapter summaries written. I've still got to outline the ending and lay out the timetable a little better (it covers a couple of years), then I'll tuck it away to actually write in November for NaNoWriMo. Will it be big enough to hit the 50,000 word in a month goal? Well, the outline is at 30,000 words right now. For those of you who are tracking along with me on my yearly word count, my goal is 350,000 words. This month, of course, sucked but I did hit 175,000 last night, so six months in and I've hit the halfway mark right on schedule.

 

 

It was time to take his next dose of aspirin, so Tim carefully climbed to his feet. There were thousands of emails on Jack's computer and it would take him hours to go through them all and he was just hoping that Jack had been emailing with the mystery man that wanted to buy the store. A middle aged woman was walking up the sidewalk, a large pan in her hands, so he stayed up and greeted her at the door. "Hello."

 

"You're Jethro's friend, Jeremy mentioned you. I'm Donna Johnson, his mother."

 

Tim stepped back to let her into the house. "I'm Tim, Tim McGee. Come on in, can I take that for you?" She gave him a look similar to when his mother caught him getting into the cookie jar as a child.

 

"I believe you're supposed to be taking it easy, aren't you?"

 

"Yes, ma'am." Blushing, Tim scratched the side of his face before he followed her into the kitchen. It wasn't in his nature to stand by and let a woman his mother's age carry something heavy, but she didn't give him any options. Once she had the pan in the oven and the temperature gauge set at low she turned around to study him.

 

"You're looking rather pale, are you taking whatever medicine they're giving you?"

 

He smiled at the question. "Jethro is taking very good care of me."

 

The smile seemed to work and she relaxed, laying her hand on his arm. "That's good. Now, I'm sure you shouldn't be up doing very much, but is there anything I can do for you before I leave?"

 

Tim realized that he was talking to someone who probably knew everything about everybody in town. "Actually, there is something. We know that one of his former employees talked to Jackson about buying the store from him someday when he was ready to retire. Jackson never mentioned it to Jethro and so far we haven't found anything..."

 

Donna's eyes widened and Tim knew he'd hit the jackpot. "The Conners' boy used to work for Jackson, back when he was in high school, then he'd help out during the summer when he was home visiting from college. I don't know if he ever talked to Jackson about it, but he got his degree in management and he's an assistant manager of a grocery store in Philly, some big chain store. Why don't I ask his mom, see if she'd heard him talk about it?"

 

"That would be great, thank you. We'd like to get things settled as soon as possible, but Jethro would really prefer not to sell the store to the Winslow Mining Company."

 

"Jackson was always very proud of the fact that he was independent." She patted his arm again. "I'll ask Carla for you if Tommy had ever mentioned anything about it, then send her over if he had. Poor thing, with Tom gone and her eyesight failing, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to have her son able to move back home. Especially with the new grandbaby."

 

The image of a new generation here at the store flashed through Tim's mind and he nodded. "We'll see if we can make it work."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Oh my, Mr. Palmer. That was certainly a creative way of handling the situation. I must say I am impressed. There is one thing, however..." Ducky paused, trying to decide how best to broach the subject, but Jimmy sounded rather amused as he answered.

 

_Yes, Dr. Mallard?_

 

Ducky had a hunch what Jimmy had done, judging by his tone and that impressed him even more. "I've done some brushing up on the research myself and I actually did read up on that study you mentioned to Tony and Abigail."

 

_I – might - have forgotten to mention a few things about that study. But I'm sure the over all point was made._

 

Ducky had to chuckle. "Very devious, indeed, Mr. Palmer. I'm sure that eventually Abby will do her own research, but at least by then the point will have been made."

 

_I thought so, Dr. Mallard, but how is McGee doing, really? Lung complications would be showing up about now._

 

"And it appears they are. With any luck, we'll be able to control it with medication, but..."

 

_Then it's a good thing you're going to be there with them until Agent Gibbs brings McGee back to DC. You are, aren't you?_

 

"Barring any urgent need for my presence there, I will stay at least through the funeral. I do not believe that Jethro will be wanting to stay here much longer than that."

 

_Won't he have to settle the estate and clean out the house? What about the store?_

 

Ducky thought back to the work that had been done already. "Timothy managed to give Jethro some very good advice about sorting through Jack's belongings. I suspect that everything will be done by the time of the funeral. As for the store, I assume that he will have someone handle the sale for him, unless Timothy can find him a buyer in the next few days. Now, do you have any plans as to how to handle it when Abby finds that study from Chicago and realizes that the average age of their patients were quite a bit older than Timothy?"

 

_I'll think of something, Dr. Mallard. If nothing else, I'll just remind her that average can cover quite a range. The version online doesn't give any specific patient information._

 

"Very good, Mr. Palmer, very good, indeed." After ending the call, Ducky had to laugh. That boy was going to go far.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Drinking that much water sucked. Drinking that much water and having to measure every time you hit the head sucked even more. Drinking that much fluid and having not a drop of it as coffee sucked worst of all. Muttering to himself about how was he suppose to stay as still as they wanted him to if he was having to get up practically every hour. Finished once again, Tim washed his hands and wrote down that hour's production on the chart for Ducky. Checking the time, he saw that his next pill was due in just a few minutes so he detoured into the kitchen to grab the bottle he'd left on the table. Bringing the aspirin and yet another glass of water into the living room Tim settled back into the recliner and dutifully wrote down the next eight ounces on his intake sheet before returning his attention to the laptop. Even though he now had a name to go by, he hadn't found any emails about the possible sale of the store. He'd left a search running on everything he could find on Thomas Conners, wanting to know more before he brought the possibility to Gibbs.

 

Tim had barely sat down when there was a timid knock at the door. It took him a moment to recognize the woman standing nervously on the front porch. "Carla, right? You helped us the day that Jack..."

 

"I'm afraid I wasn't much help."

 

He remembered thinking the same thing about himself. "You did what you could, so did I, but in the end there was nothing any of us could have done."

 

"I suppose so." She shrugged, twisting her hands together. "I was talking to Donna and..."

 

"About your son? Please, come in." Tim led her to the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. "Could he have talked to Jackson about buying the store at some point?"

 

When she looked up at him, Tim could tell that she wasn't looking directly at him and he remembered something about her vision so he stayed still to make it easier for her. "If he did, he never mentioned it to me, but it would be wonderful to bring him back home."

 

"He's in Philadelphia, isn't he?" Tim remembered what he'd been told and what he'd found out on his own. "He's the night manager at a store on the East side."

 

She nodded, obviously distraught. "Working sixty or seventy hours a week, barely seeing his little boy, that's no way to live... and the way he got the promotion..."

 

One thing Tim's research had showed was that Tom Conners had been promoted from assistant manager to night manager after the previous night manager had been gunned down in a botched robbery, a solid reason for his mother to be worried about him. Tim had pretty much made his decision before she arrived. "If he's at all interested, Jethro and I would like to talk to him about buying the store and maybe even the house."

 

She teared up at the thought of her son back home again, living with her daughter-in-law and grandchild right down the street. "Oh, that would be so wonderful, but would a bank actually give him a loan? He's still so young."

 

"Don't worry, I'm sure we can work out an arrangement that he can handle, maybe Jethro will even carry the contract himself. He's not thinking about how to squeeze every dime out of this, I guarantee you. He wants Jack's legacy to continue and not by Winslow Industries. Since your son works nights, when's a good time to call?"

 

Carla looked down at the large numbers on her watch, but again, not directly. "Perhaps in an hour? I'll call his wife and she can make sure he's up before you call."

 

"I'd appreciate it." Tim wrote down the number as she gave it to him, then carefully watched as she navigated the path to her own home. Once she was safely there, he called Gibbs, only to have his call go directly to voice mail. Not bothering to leave a message, he hung up to try again later.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Still pleased with how the case had been solved, with the two suspects trying to out-confess each other, Tony gleefully picked up his phone at the first ring. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

 

_Get your feet off the desk, DiNozzo._

 

Squeaking, Tony almost fell off his chair as he swung his legs around. "Boss! How did you... What are you... Umm, hi."

 

_Hi yourself, Tony._

 

Gibbs sounded almost amused, so Tony relaxed a bit. "How are things going up there? How's Tim?"

 

_Ducky and I are watching him._

 

Something about the way Gibbs had said that caught Tony's attention and he straightened up even more. "He's having problems?"

 

_Ducky will know more when he gets all the test results but, yeah, it looks like it. Like I said, we're watching him._

 

Jimmy's little hands-on demonstration and the talk afterward flashed through Tony's mind. "Come on, Boss, he needs more than that. He needs to be really taken care of. I mean, what he did – man..."

 

_So, you get it now?_

 

"Yeah." Tony rubbed his fingers over his forehead. "Yeah, I get it. What about you, Boss? What can I do, how can I help?"

 

_Funeral's Sunday, after morning services. I'll call Vance, clear it for you guys to come up on Saturday. Got some stuff to bring back, so if you can drive my truck up here, it would help._

 

Tony knew he had a stunned expression on his face as he tried to wrap his mind around the request. "You want me to drive your truck?"

 

_You drive my truck, Bishop drives hers, we should be able to get everything back in one trip._

 

Tony was nodding even though Gibbs couldn't see him through the phone line. Okay, I can do that. It's just that you've never let anyone drive your truck before."

 

_Didn't think you wanted to borrow it to impress some woman, DiNozzo._

 

"Well, no."

 

_No double clutching and don't let Abby talk you into driving it. You can drive the rental car back to DC Sunday night. Now, tell me about the case._

 

Smiling, Tony settled in to tell Gibbs all about their joint operation and Lee's reaction when they picked him back up, pleased when Gibbs was chuckling by the end.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim carefully watched the time and placed the call when the required hour had passed. It barely rang before a voice was on the other end of the line.

 

_This is Tom Connors._

 

"Tom, my name is Tim McGee, I'm a friend of Jackson Gibbs and I work with his son, Jethro."

 

_Mom called a bit ago and told me about Jackson. I'm so sorry, he was a good man, taught me a lot._

 

That made Tim smile. "Yeah, I think he taught us all over the years. I know he'd talked to one of his former employees about buying the store when he retired and I think it was you. Am I correct?"

 

_It was me, but I thought I'd have more time, you know. With a new baby I don't really have anything for a down-payment._

 

He wished he'd been able to talk to Gibbs first, but Tim was pretty sure he knew what the answer would have been. "Money aside, do you want the store? Do you want to uproot your life in the big city and move back here to Stillwater to run the store?" Tim held his breath, waiting for the answer.

 

_Honestly? More than anything. I'm tired of the noise and the violence. This isn't how I want my little boy to grow up. I want him to be able to walk down the street and not worry about a drive-by shooter gunning him down. I want him to be able to play outside and have a dog instead of being cooped up in a third floor apartment. And I want to be able to take care of my mom without moving her out of the home she's lived in for the last thirty years. I just don't know how to do all that and still pay Jackson's family what the store is worth._

 

Tim took a deep breath. "Come home this weekend and we'll make it work."

 

_Okay, I will._

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs was still chuckling over how DiNozzo used Bishop's love of food to break Lee and get him to confess to everything as he made his next call, this time to Vance. As he waited for the call to be transferred through, he thought about having the entire team underfoot Saturday night. He and Tim were going to have to make some decisions about how out they were going to be, at least with their family. Officially they were going to have to remain deeply in the closet if he wanted to keep Tim on the team. Of course that also depended on Tim's health. If the damage to his lungs or kidneys was sever enough to permanently ground him then there would be no reason to hide from anyone. Before he could decide how he felt about that, Vance picked up at the other end.

 

_Jethro, how are you?_

 

He thought about it for a split second. The ache was certainly still there, but learning to open up to Tim and Ducky had been a good thing and had more benefits. "I'm okay. Jack had a good, full life and in the end he didn't suffer and he wasn't alone. That's a comfort."

 

_I'm sure it is._

 

Vance didn't sound totally convinced, but Gibbs understood. Jackie had not had that long full life before she'd been gunned down. Unlike Jack, she hadn't been able to watch her children grow up, hadn't fulfilled any of her future dreams. "It is. Tim's been a great help with sorting out what's important and what to let go and Ducky took care of Jack. Nothing could have saved him, even if he'd already been at a hospital when it happened. I think that helped Tim let go of any guilt he might have had."

 

_That's good. How is he?_

 

Gibbs hesitated for a moment. Until they knew more there was no official reason to inform the Director, but the friend deserved to not be totally in the dark when other knew. "Not as good as we'd hoped by now, but Ducky is taking good care of him."

 

_Tell him we're all pulling for him to make a complete recovery._

 

"I will. Funeral's been set for Sunday right after the regular church service is over. I've talked to DiNozzo and it looks like the case is over, so I'm hoping he and the others can drive up on Saturday."

 

_Balboa's team is already taking the weekend shift, so that should be fine. Miss Sciuto and DiNozzo over their little snit?_

 

"Tony gets it now. Not sure about Abby, but I guess we'll find out." He had heard the the understanding and worry in Tony's voice, but hadn't talked to Abby yet, wasn't in a particular hurry either.

 

_All right, I'll make sure your team is out of here on time to be there Saturday and the rest of us will be there on Sunday morning._

 

That surprised Gibbs. He hadn't even thought about the rest of them wanting to pay their respects, but he was realizing how important Jack had been to a lot of people. "Appreciate it, Leon."

 

_It's what family does, isn't that what you told me?_

 

Jethro remembered that moment, right before Jackie's funeral. "Yeah, I did. Thank you."

 

_See you on Sunday._

 

Gibbs was still staring at the phone when the bell over the door chimed. "Hey, Ed."

 

"Jethro, how are you doing?" The Sheriff walked up and leaned on the counter, giving Gibbs a nod. "Ran into Chuck this morning. He tells me that you're selling the store to him."

 

Gibbs gave a snort. Leave it to Winslow to assume it was a done deal. "He's making an offer. Doesn't mean I'm going to take it."

 

Gantry looked surprised at that. "You got another offer?"

 

In answer, Gibbs just raised his eyebrow. No need to let Winslow Industries know more than was absolutely necessary.

 

 


	16. Remnants of Childhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n - thanks for all the well wished guys. Ziva won't be here. I'm trying to stay close to canon and I don't think canon Ziva would fly half way around the world for this. I finished chapter 18 last night and I'm half way through chapter 19. As far as what I'll be posting after this is done, Catalyst is the closest to being finished, so I'll probably concentrate on that one. Laboring is calling to me again and the sequel is absolutely screaming so that will probably be pretty high up on the list as well
> 
> BTW, fixed some broken formatting in the last chapter, thanks for pointing that out.

 

 

After Gantry left, Gibbs had a run of customers, all giving their condolences and hoping for details about the fate of the store. After his twentieth time of some variation of reviewing his options and no final decision yet, he gratefully locked the door behind the last visitor of the day. Checking his phone he found a missed text from Tim and quickly opened it.

 

Dinner delivered.

Buyer found.

 

Gibbs smiled at that and started counting the cash, preparing for the next day. It was only about twenty minutes after he'd locked the front door that he'd been able to walk out the back. It was a brisk walk, but the skies had cleared and no additional snow was in the forecast for the next few days. Coming up the back steps, he stomped his feet before stepping into the kitchen and calling out. "Hey."

 

"In the living room."

 

Gibbs peeked into the refrigerator, but nothing looked different that he could tell. That was when he noticed the oven was on. A check in there didn't tell him much either, since it was wrapped in foil. "We by ourselves?"

 

"Yep."

 

Knowing that their time alone would be brief, Gibbs went into the living room, checking the clock on the wall as he passed it. A quick calculation told him that Tim should have taken his next aspirin about fifteen minutes ago. He frowned as he walked into the living room and saw Tim setting the bottle back down. "Did you just take it? You're late."

 

Tim smiled and shook his head. "One of my visitors today got me a few minutes off schedule, but since she helped me figure out who we were looking for, I think it was worth it."

 

"Yeah?" Gibbs sat on the sofa next to Tim and lifted Tim's legs to drape over his. "Tell me about it. Who is it?"

 

Tim snuggled down against Jethro. "You know Carla Connors?"

 

Gibbs had to think for a minute. "Tom and Carla, two houses down, she started teaching grade school the year I enlisted. That's right, they had a boy, would be a year older than Kelly would have been. He's the one that's interested in the store?"

 

"He is, he's the night manager at a grocery store in Philadelphia, got promoted up from assistant manager when the last night manager was killed in a robbery."

 

"Ouch."

 

"Yeah. Anyway, he was hoping to save up enough money to buy the store when Jack was ready to retire, but his wife had a baby not too long ago and so now money's pretty tight. But he still wants to move back here, raise his family here and take care of his mom. She's a widow now and losing her sight. Even though he doesn't have enough cash saved up for a typical down payment, I asked him to come home for the weekend and talk to you about it. See if you two can work something out."

 

"Good. I think that's exactly what my dad would have wanted."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Hey, Duck."

 

Ducky looked over and smiled at the sight of Jethro and Tim curled around each other on the sofa. Gibbs started to straighten up when he saw the pharmacy bag in Ducky's hands, but Ducky waved him back down and joined them, pulling a chair closer to the couch before sitting down. He didn't waste any time. "Your x-rays showed a definite inflammation in your lungs, Timothy. I've conferred with the pulmonary specialist that you'll be seeing upon our return and he agrees that the best course of action is to start you on some strong medications now. With any luck, we can stop this from getting any worse."

 

"Steroids."

 

"Yes. An inhaled corticosteroid, two puffs twice a day. As a precaution, he's also suggested a broad spectrum antibiotic. We may have to increase your corticosteroid level and use an oral dose, but we'll start with this."

 

Tim glared at the familiar plastic dispenser with the tube of pressurized steroids inside. Half of his childhood had been spent puffing on one of those, until he'd gotten close to the age where his medical records would be reviewed by the admissions department at Annapolis. Instead of letting his son taper off under the supervision of a doctor, the then Captain had tossed Tim's inhaler when they'd changed duty stations. Eventually Tim had outgrown his asthma for the most part, as many children do, but he still remembered the discomfort of stopping cold-turkey. It had been almost as bad as the original side effects.

 

"It's going to turn me into the stay-puff marshmallow man."

 

Gibbs held him close, rubbing his hand up and down Tim's back. "Don't worry, nobody is going to give you a hard time." He shifted his head enough to look at Ducky. "First dose now?"

 

"Yes. Timothy, you've taken this before?"

 

Still not enthusiastic, he nodded. "I know the drill."

 

"Excellent, remember to hold the medicine in for a bit, ten seconds if you can manage it. Then, after your second puff, be sure to go and rinse your mouth out very well."

 

"Why?" It was Gibbs asking and not Tim, but Tim was the one that answered.

 

"Besides the fact that it tastes worse than the break room coffee, it can cause an irritation in my mouth."

 

"Spoken with the words of experience it sounds like, Timothy. Yes, I'm afraid he's correct and he certainly doesn't need to deal with a bout of thrush at the moment."

 

With Gibbs watching closely, Tim shook the canister and took the cover off the mouthpiece. Tilting his head back slightly, his hands remembered the steps. Across from the sofa, Ducky saw a man desperate for some way to help.

 

"Jethro, why don't you count the ten seconds for Timothy so he doesn't have to worry about it?" Seeing that the two of them had the situation well in hand, Ducky slipped into the kitchen to check on what he smelled warming up in the oven.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Over a very homey tuna noodle casserole, Ducky had some questions. "I don't remember any mention of you having childhood asthma in your medical records, Timothy. How old were you when you outgrew it?"

 

"When I was getting close to the age where the Navy would be looking at my medical records."

 

"I see. So, did you stop having asthma attacks, or did you just stop being treated for them?" Knowing the few things McGee had mentioned about his father over the years, Ducky was pretty sure of the answer. Tim just shrugged and picked the noodles apart on his plate.

 

"My father wanted to make sure nothing interfered with my eventual Naval career."

 

Gibbs didn't like the sound of that. "You were a Navy dependent, did he really think he was going to hide something like that?"

 

Tim looked up at Gibbs. "The son of an up and coming officer like my father had to be in perfect health, good genes you know. I only saw a Navy doctor for my once a year physical."

 

"So, what? A civilian doctor if you were ever actually sick?"

 

"You know there's always a civilian doctor or two near a base that's willing to treat for cash and have lousy record keeping."

 

Gibbs did know that, but for adults that wanted to hide something that would question their fitness for duty. He'd never even considered that it would go further than that, but now that it was out there, he could see it happening. Especially with a career driven father like Admiral McGee. "So, how old were you when you actually stopped having asthma attacks?"

 

"Sixteen, when I started college. Turned out that getting away from my parent's cats was a good thing."

 

Gibbs just stared at him while Ducky tutted. "You're allergic to cats, but your family had them?"

 

"Yep, Persians." Tim saw that Gibbs was trying to remember about that particular breed. "Long hair, short face. Had to be groomed constantly."

 

"And your parents weren't smart enough to figure out that was the cause of your asthma?"

 

Ducky was looking at the situation from a medical aspect. "Well, at least one of the causes."

 

If he'd known any of this, Gibbs would have handled their one encounter with the Admiral a whole lot differently. "Your mom still have those darn cats?"

 

"She shows them and breeds them, and now you know why I never go home for the holidays." Tim obviously tried to make light of the situation, but the expression on Gibbs' face was still stormy as Ducky watched the two of them.

 

"Your father is a pompous jackass, but you should have been more important than the damned cats to your mother."

 

Tim just tilted his head, then leaned into the touch as Gibbs wrapped his arm around him and Ducky realized that this was probably the first time the young man felt like he was important to anyone. He hoped that Gibbs understood this.

 

While Ducky cleared the table, Gibbs pulled a carton of something out of the refrigerator and Tim started to laugh. When Ducky looked closer he saw it was a carton of yogurt. He felt an eyebrow climbing and Gibbs just gave a sheepish shrug.

 

"Apparently I've been eating it for a while."

 

More amused than he'd ever admit, Ducky watched as Gibbs sliced up a couple of bananas and divided them among three bowls, along with canned sliced peaches, before scooping the yogurt on top of the fruit. With the other two men watching closely, Gibbs took a tentative bite, gave an approving nod and dug in. They were just scraping the bottoms of the bowls when Gibbs looked back at Tim, a slight smile on his face.

 

"That really was yogurt on the soup and not tofu, right?" When Tim nodded in the affirmative, Gibbs looked relieved. "Good. I thought you were yanking my chain, but I wanted to make sure."

 

As Ducky looked on in amusement, Gibbs had one more question. "So you guys haven't snuck any tofu in on me?"

 

"No, not snuck." Tim paused with an expression that made Ducky laugh. "You have snagged a piece or two out of our lunches from time to time." The expression on Gibbs' face after that made Ducky laugh even harder but when the two men went upstairs, Ducky gave him a more serious look.

 

_Don't screw this up, my friend._

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs didn't debate where he was going to sleep, but he did leave the final decisions about where they were headed up to Tim. With his personal history and their working relationship at stake, he felt that was the proper thing to do.

 

Crawling into bed, he pulled Tim up against him, settling with the younger man draped across his chest. "You do know that you have the right to tell me no."

 

Tim raised up to look at him for a moment before laying back down and sliding his hand under Gibbs' t-shirt to stroke his belly. "Why on Earth would I want to do that?"

 

"Not sure I'm much of a catch."

 

That got Tim back up on his elbow and Gibbs his first head slap from the younger man. "Don't ever say that. You're everything I've ever wanted for a very long time."

 

"Yes, Boss." His words were only partly in jest.

 

Tim smiled and settled back down, his fingers tangled in Gibbs' chest hair. "And don't you forget it."

 

 


	17. Good Morning, Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, didn't get this up before the holiday. Here's chapter 17, chapter 18 will go up tonight.

 

 

When Ducky woke up, he knew instinctively that he wasn't in his own bed before he even opened his eyes, but it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. By then, he realized something else – he was smelling bacon. Patting his hair into place and fumbling with his glasses, he followed his nose and found Gibbs in the kitchen, working two skillets. One held the bacon and the other was filled with French toast, browning nicely. He couldn't help but smile at the image for the second day in a row. "Will wonders never cease..."

 

"Funny, Ducky, real funny."

 

Ducky smiled and started filling the tea kettle. "Just be glad I'm not taking any pictures. Without any evidence, on one would ever believe me."

 

Gibbs shook a spatula at him, but he couldn't quite wipe the smirk off his face. "You want to eat or not?"

 

In answer, Ducky just smiled and mimed zipping his lips closed. Gibbs rolled his eyes but he was now busy dishing up the food.

 

"You need any samples from Tim before he eats?"

 

Now that Gibbs was finished with the stove, Ducky set the kettle on one of the burners. "Is he still tracking his fluid input and output?" Gibbs nodded as he slathered real butter on the bread before adding the maple syrup.

 

"Yep."

 

"Then that's all I need at the moment. Just make sure he takes his medications."

 

Gibbs scooted the butter and syrup closer to Ducky before picking up two of the plates. "Will do. Help yourself, there's more French toast and bacon in the oven." The plates went on a tray, along with two cups of decaf coffee, two glasses of juice and the silverware along with Tim's medications.

 

Ducky watched in amusement as Gibbs left with their food for an obvious breakfast in bed. It appeared that some real good had come out of all this, indeed. Still smiling and shaking his head, Ducky opened the oven and helped himself. After all, it wouldn't do at all to insult the cook.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tim finished washing his hands as he looked into the mirror. Turning off the water, he reached up and touched his lips as he remembered waking up.

 

_He was warm and comfortable, a strong arm around his shoulders holding him close, the heartbeat in his ear soothing and calming. It would have been so easy to fall back asleep, but Tim wanted to savor the moment. He rubbed his cheek against the coarse hair before placing a kiss right over Jethro's heart. Fingertips stroked down his back as another hand cupped his face and lifted it up. The tenderness he saw in those blue eyes filled him with love and they'd kissed until Tim's stomach had growled. He'd been embarrassed, but Jethro had laughed and promised him breakfast in bed._

 

Judging from the smells, breakfast was coming soon so Tim dried his hands and returned to the bedroom. He coughed a few times as he was straightening the bedding, but managed to get into the bed just as Jethro came though the door.

 

Gibbs set the tray down on the dresser and tossed the inhaler to Tim. "Remember, you need to rinse your mouth after you take that one."

 

Tim caught the plastic tube and glared at it. "I hate this."

 

"I know." Gibbs sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around Tim, pulling him close enough to kiss his forehead before running the back of his fingers down Tim's cheek. "But it won't last forever and I need you to be all right, Tim."

 

There was a flicker of fear in those blue eyes and Tim knew he'd do anything to alleviate those fears. He took the inhaler and after shaking it, lifted it to his mouth. He exhaled as much as he could, then took a deep breath as he depressed the bottle. Even aiming as carefully as he did, he could still taste the medicine that landed on the back of his tongue instead of being sucked into his lungs. Jethro held his other hand and counted for him as they waited for the moment Tim could exhale again. They repeated the process and then Gibbs stood so Tim could return to the bathroom once again, this time to carefully rinse his mouth. As Ducky had said last night, the last thing he needed was to develop a fungal infection on top of everything else.

 

Returning from the bathroom, he was handed an antibiotic. At least this one was just a pill to swallow. That was easy, especially when Jethro handed him his coffee. Tim missed the caffeine even if he couldn't taste the difference in the actual coffee. "You know, you don't have to drink decaf just because I can't have caffeine right now."

 

Gibbs gave a little shrug. "I'll survive."

 

"And it will be fun to see the look on Tony's face when Ducky warns him you've been drinking decaf." Tim held a straight face until Jethro burst out laughing. Gibbs shook his head and Tim pulled him closer. "I love to hear you laugh."

 

"Yeah?" Gibbs reached over and grabbed one plate and then the other. "I remember laughing a lot when I was a kid. Then my mom died and it was like that just sucked all the joy out of my life, at least until I met Shannon."

 

Gibbs didn't have to finish that, Tim knew exactly what had happened and it made him understand even more why his current issues weren't so minor to Gibbs. He reached up and touched the side of Gibbs' face, turning him to look directly into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Jethro. No matter how much I might hate it, I'm going to do everything necessary to get over this."

 

He kissed the palm of Tim's hand. "Good, because I can't lose another person I love."

 

They'd been dancing around the topic, neither of them saying the 'L-word' until now and a slow smile spread across Tim's face. "I love you too, Jethro."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Here." Tim handed Gibbs Jackson's laptop. "I gathered all the information I could find about the store, his accounts, annual profits, estimated values of the shop building and the house. Whatever you decide to do, you should have the complete information. It's all in a file on the desktop if you want to print it out."

 

Gibbs smiled at the fact that Tim knew he'd rather have papers to hold instead of reading off the screen. "Good, I expect Winslow's lawyer expects to get the place for pennies on the dollar."

 

"At least he won't be expecting you to know any of this."

 

"You're going to take it easy today while I'm at the store?"

 

Tim glanced over at the other man in the room. "As if Ducky would let me do anything else. He and I are going to go through the rest of the books today and box up the photo albums."

 

"Books?" Gibbs looked at the bookcases that lined the hallways, both downstairs and upstairs. He'd already set aside five or six books that had personal meaning for him.

 

"Just want to make sure we didn't miss anything. I noticed there's a few first editions upstairs. Even if you decide not to keep them, they should go to a charity that can sell them properly, not dump them in a twenty-five cent bin."

 

That made a certain amount of sense to Gibbs. He didn't need the money from his father, but the idea of a charity getting some real good out of his things appealed to him. "Find a charity that helps the local veterans, will ya'?"

 

"Already have. It's a small charity that helps homeless vets get back on their feet. They just don't have the manpower to sort all these books."

 

And with that, Leroy Jethro Gibbs fell even more in love.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Once they were alone, Ducky gave McGee a stern look. "When we get home, I want an honest update to your medical file young man."

 

"All that stuff was when I was a kid, Ducky. It's a little late to worry about any of that now."

 

Ducky spoke slowly, determined to make his point. "If I had knows about your history of asthma, young man, you would already be on oral steroids."

 

"The last time I was on oral steroids I gained almost twenty pounds in a month."

 

"As difficult as that was for you, I am sure it will be easier for you now to deal with a fluctuation of your weight than to face possible weeks in the hospital on a vent." When he saw the flash of fear on Tim's face Ducky knew he'd made his point. "You will take the inhaled version for now, but I reserve the right to change it if your condition worsens in any way."

 

"Of course, Ducky."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Once the store was open and the first rush of the day was over Gibbs printed out the file Tim had put together for him. He'd been quite thorough, not that it was a surprise. The store had consistently shown a profit, enough for Jackson to live comfortably, even if he'd spent a surprising amount of money on labor. Gibbs suspected that until recently the extra workers were more of a way for Jackson to help some of his neighbors than an actual need for a second body around the store. Even taking that into account, Gibbs saw the problem that Tim had found. It was the low overhead that kept the store running in the black. A low overhead because there was no mortgage on the building or the house.

 

If he asked for even close to the current market value on both of the properties, the monthly profit would pay the new mortgages but leave nothing to live on. If Winslow ended up with the place Gibbs was more than okay with that, but not if it was someone who actually wanted to continue what Jack had built. At the bottom of the file was everything Tim had gathered showing what his expenses would be for settling his father's estate, depending on how it was done. Gibbs poured himself a cup of real coffee now that he was alone and settled in to study his options.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Well, lad, how do you propose you tackle this?" Ducky was already carefully boxing up the photos and memorabilia he knew would someday be important to Gibbs. Tim picked up two of the boxes and marked one 'keep' and the other one 'review'.

 

"I'm just going to sit on the floor in front of the bookcase."

 

Ducky noticed that Tim had his phone on the floor in front of him, a webpage for a book dealer already loaded up. The older man had been resisting the move to a smartphone, but this intrigued him. "Are you actually able to use your phone to determine a correct price on some of these old books?"

 

"I sure am." To prove his point he scanned the cover of a book and let the app do its magic. A moment later several possibilities came up and Tim tapped on the one with the correct publishing date. All the information he needed scrolled across the screen.

 

"Oh, my."

 

Tim had a sneaking suspicion that either he or Jimmy would be recruited for a trip to the phone store in the near future.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs was just thinking about lunch when the bell over the door rang. He looked up to see a young couple with a baby. He figured the little guy was about six months old with sparkling brown eyes that took in everything and a riot of black curls on his head. Even before anything was said, Gibbs had a sneaking suspicion who they were.

 

"Agent Gibbs, I'm Tom Connors and this is my wife, Hanna."

 

Gibbs stood and shook the offered hand. I'd know you anywhere, you're the splitting image of your father."

 

"Thank you, Sir."

 

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living and who's this little guy?" Gibbs grinned at the baby who was already reaching for a brightly colored box on the shelf behind his mother.

 

"This is Tommy, Thomas Darryl Connors, III to be technical. Tom laughed as Tommy reached out and grabbed his shirt. Transferred from his mother's arms to his father's the little guy was fascinated with Gibbs, who had to smile at him.

 

"Hey there, Tommy, you like this place?" The answering squeal made all three of the adults smile.

 

Handing the baby back to his wife, Tom reverently walked the front of the store, running his fingers along the shelves, making sure everything was perfectly straight. "My sophomore year, college scouts were already coming to Stillwater to check me out. Old man Winslow made sure I had a cushy job in the office at the mine so I had plenty of spending money. Then I blew out my knee.

 

"State championship vanished about the same time as the college scouts. By the time I could hobble around again, the new star of the football team had my job at the mine. Even my girlfriend at the time dumped me. I was pretty low and then Jackson offered me a job. Don't think he really needed the help, but..."

 

Gibbs nodded at that. "That was his way."

 

"Yeah." Tom stopped in front of the counter, right across from where Jack would spend his days. "I leaned more from Jackson than from school or my coaches or even my dad."

 

Gibbs would have loved to ask him more about his plans for the store, but Chuck Winslow and his lawyer arrived at that moment. He recognized Tom as soon as he stepped inside. "Well, well, if it isn't little Tommy Connors all grown up. Play your cards right boy and I might hire you to run the store for me. Seems funny to not have a Connors on the payroll since your daddy left."

 

Tom looked at Hanna then tilted his head ever so slightly toward the back entrance of the store. "Honey, why don't you take little Tommy and go over to my mom's place. That way she can play with him for a while before his nap time."

 

She looked unsure but nodded and picked up the diaper bag she'd set on the floor. Gibbs caught her eye and gave her a subtle nod as the four men moved to sit down at the large table in the center of the store.

 


	18. Negotiations and Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of the day, now I'm caught up with myself.

 

 

"Oh, wow."

 

Ducky looked up at the soft words. "Find something interesting, lad?"

 

"Yeah." Tim looked up and showed Ducky what he'd found carefully preserved between the pages of the old set of encyclopedias on the bottom shelf. "It's a bunch of letters and pictures, there's letters that Jackson's parents wrote to each other when he was serving in the first World War and letters from Jackson's brother when he was serving in the Navy."

 

"Jethro has never mentioned an uncle."

 

"He wouldn't have." Tim took out the last artifact, a military telegraph, that was tucked away between zebras and the Zebrzydowski Rebellion in the last encyclopedia. "Jackson's brother died aboard the USS Roche. They hit an underwater mine twenty days after the Japanese surrendered. He was only nineteen years old."

 

Ducky closed his eyes for a moment. "One of the last casualties of the war, then. I can't imagine how the family must have felt. To believe he was safe, then to die like that, I wonder if Jethro even knows about his uncle."

 

"I don't know, but he should have these." Tim started to carefully stack the letters and the photographs, keeping them in the order he'd found them in.

 

Tim stopped to stare at a photo and Ducky joined him on the floor. Tim handed the picture over. "It's Jackson and his older brother, looks like it was taken right before his brother shipped out."

 

Ducky adjusted his glasses to take a closer look. It was indeed the two brothers, Jackson looking up at his older brother in awe, the older boy looking slightly uncomfortable and overwhelmed in his freshly starched uniform. "This was probably the last time the family was together. What on Earth was all this doing in such an old set of encyclopedias?"

 

Tim pointed out a faint water stain on one of the letters, then showed where it was repeated on several others. "My mom's mother used to use their set of encyclopedias to press and dry flowers. I bet the papers got wet somehow and that's how they tried to dry them so they'd stay flat."

 

Ducky picked up one of the books and looked at the date. It had been published about ten years before Jethro had even been born. "I suspect you're right, McGee. In fact, I'd go as far as to suggest that Jackson might not have even known about these."

 

Checking the time, Ducky climbed to his feet, patting Tim's knee in the process. "Come along, it's high time we took a break and had some lunch."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Passing the kitchen window Tim saw a young woman with a baby cutting across the back yard. Without a doubt, he knew who she was and opened the back door to say hello.

 

"Hi, you're Tom's wife, right?"

 

She looked embarrassed to be caught. "Yes, I'm Hanna and this is Tommy. I hope you don't mind, Tom sent us to stay with his mom while he's talking to Mr. Gibbs."

 

Tim waved at the little boy. "Hey, not problem. More than likely this will be your back yard anyway in a few days."

 

Hanna looked around with a wistful look on her face. "That would be so wonderful, but we're not the only ones talking to Mr. Gibbs and the other man looked like he had enough money to beat our offer."

 

"Yeah, that would be Chuck Winslow. His family has run this town for years, owns the local mine and part of every other business in Stillwater. Jethro does not want him to get his hands on the store, not if there's someone out there willing to keep Jack's dream alive." Tim was just about to suggest she come in and look at the house when he saw Carla come out onto her back porch. Not wanting to interfere, Tim settled for a wave. "Looks like your mother-in-law is waiting for you. Come by and take a look at the house when you're ready."

 

"I will, thank you."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"I'm a busy man, Leroy, so let's just cut to the chase. I'm offering you a cash settlement for your father's store. Since I'm sure you want this settled quickly so you can go back to chasing lost sailors, I'll even throw in an extra fifty thousand for that old house of his." Winslow looked over at his lawyer who pushed a stack of papers over in front of Gibbs, brightly colored sticky tabs marking where he was expected to sign.

 

The lawyer smiled, apparently pleased that Gibbs didn't even have someone to represent him. "If you'll just sign here, Mr. Gibbs, we can have a check issued to you before the bank closes for the weekend."

 

"Of course." Instead of taking the offered papers, Gibbs slid a few of his own over in front of Winslow and his attorney. "Current values of the store, not counting inventory or business reputation. Also, current value of the house. I see a little discrepancy there, don't you?"

 

Winslow shifted in his chair. "Paper value and real value can be two different things, Leroy." He shifted again and glanced over at his stone faced lawyer. "But in recognition of Jackson's long time support of this community, I'll increase the offer by twenty-five thousand."

 

Gibbs gave a non-committal grunt and looked over at Connors, who had been very quiet up until now. "Okay, what's your offer?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

From where he was sitting, Tom Connors could see the written offer. Even adding in the verbal offer for the house and the extra twenty-five grand Winslow had tossed at Gibbs, it was a fraction of what the total property was worth. Unfortunately, it was a cash offer and a whole lot more than what he and Hanna could come up with, especially at this short of notice.

 

When Gibbs asked for his offer Tom looked up as he tried to hide his panic, but there was something in his eyes, something that reminded him of Jackson. Remembering also what McGee had said to him over the phone, Tom took a deep breath and laid it all out on the table.

 

"I can't beat his offer, Mr. Gibbs. Not in a lump sum, but if I cash out my retirement fund I can have a ten thousand dollar down payment to you by Monday. As far as the rest. This place is worth a whole lot more than what Mr. Winslow is offering you. I know it, you know it and he knows it, too.

 

"My wife is a school teacher, just like my mom and she's hoping to be teaching at the elementary school here next year. We can pay you her entire take home pay for as long as it takes to pay off the store. We'd love the house too, but we can live with my mom and maybe you can find another buyer for the house. Or maybe we can live upstairs here. Jackson told me the stories about living upstairs until he could afford to build his house. He even showed me where you colored on the wall up there."

 

 

\--NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs smiled at the memory. He didn't remember the actual coloring on the wall, but he remembered his father teasing him about it when he was older. Looking around, the memories were clear as day but at the same time he could see the future, see little Tommy sitting at the table, his father teaching him as Jackson had done. He could imagine chubby legs climbing the apple tree, father and son restoring the old tree house Jackson had built for him.

 

Winslow snorted at the offer Tom had made. "Ten thousand isn't enough for a down payment."

 

"No, it's not." Decision made, Gibbs cut in before they could argue. He took the keys and slid them across the table. "Not a down payment, paid in full, store and house."

 

"What?" Tom stared, not blinking until Gibbs actually picked the keys back up and put them in his hand.

 

"Now, see here, Gibbs. His offer is a joke. Fine, I'll double my offer."

 

Jethro was still watching Tom, who was staring at him in shock. "It's not about the money, it's about something more important."

 

Realizing that his dream was coming true, Tom slowly nodded as he stood. "I'll run it the way Jackson always wanted it, the way he taught me. Take care of my family, take care of my neighbors, take care of the customers. I'll do him proud... **Sir**."

 

The pause and the emphasis told Gibbs it was a title of honor and he accepted it as such as he stood and shook Tom's hand. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

 

"Thank you." Tom's hand trembled and his eyes were bright. "Thank you so much."

 

Still holding Jethro's hand he pulled him close for a hug, lifting Gibbs off his feet for a moment. Finally setting him back down, he glanced at the back entrance where his wife and son had vanished. "I gotta... I gotta..."

 

Gibbs jerked his head in that direction. "Go on, go tell your wife that you're business owners. Come by after dinner tonight and we'll make it all official."

 

"Thank you." After pumping Jethro's arm one more time, he dashed out the back. The screen door was still bouncing against the frame when they heard a whoop of joy.

 

Shaking his head, Winslow took back his printed offer and wadded it up. "Leroy, you're just like your father."

 

"Chuck, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

 

Winslow stood up and looked around the store. "He's going to be as much of a pain in the ass to me as your old man was isn't he?"

 

Gibbs didn't even try to hide his amusement. "God, I hope so."

 

That got a chuckle out of Winslow. "I'll deny it if anybody ever asks me, but so do I. I'm going to miss that old coot. He was a good man and if Tom's going to run this place the same way – I guess I can live with that." He patted Gibbs on the back and left the store, his lawyer scurrying to keep up with him.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

A shout in the back yard started Ducky as he was heating up some soup and both he and Tim looked out the window. A very happy young man ran through their yard, on his way to the Connors' house. Jackson's home was set further back than his neighbors and from the back porch they could see the happy reunion as he picked Hanna up and swung her around before kissing and hugging Carla.

 

Ducky smiled and squeezed Tim's shoulder. "It would appear that your instinct about young Mr. Connors being the right person was correct, Timothy."

 

Tim watched the hugs and kisses and the excited chatter. The energy helping to wash away the sadness of death. As with all endings, there was a matching new beginning. "I'm glad, I'm really glad."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Finally alone, Gibbs let out a deep breath. It was close enough to closing time that he didn't think twice about flipping the open sign over and locking the front door. Once the money was counted and put away, he locked the safe for the last time. Tomorrow he'd come in with Tom and make sure he had everything he needed, but for all intents and purposes, he was done with the store. All of downtown Stillwater was closed on Sundays and on Monday the Stillwater General Store would officially open under new management. Satisfied, he reached out and turned off the lights.

 

"Okay, Dad, it's done. I hope this is what you wanted."

 

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and Gibbs turned to see Jackson standing at the counter. In the dim Winter light coming through the window there was a slight glow around Jack as he wiped down the counter with an old rag. That had been his last act of the evening since Jethro's earliest memories. Jack smiled and nodded before fading from view.

 

 

 

a/n – Everything historical (including the Zebrzydowski Rebellion) is real and researched because I'm anal like that.

 


	19. Celebrations and Discoveries

 

 

"Hey." Tim found Jethro sitting on the back steps. He'd snagged an extra coat and tossed it to Gibbs before sitting down next to him. "I guess you worked out a deal with Connors."

 

Gibbs thought for a moment. "I did. Enough that it wasn't a total gift, but no more than that."

 

"So he appreciates what he has, but doesn't have to stress about making it all work, can concentrate on what's important?"

 

"Pretty much. Chuck wasn't happy that I rejected his offer."

 

"Icing on the cake?"

 

Gibbs grinned and wrapped his arm around Tim. "Oh, yeah."

 

Tim snuggled up against him. "Good, Jackson would have liked it."

 

Remembering what he'd seen in the store Gibbs just nodded and kissed the top of Tim's head. They sat there for a few more minutes before Gibbs stood and pulled Tim up with him. "Come on, it's too cold out here for you."

 

Ducky was just answering the front door when they walked in. Hanna was standing there, looking very happy.

 

"Hi, I hope you don't mind, but Carla and I intercepted Mrs Gunther, told her we were bringing dinner over tonight."

 

"Thank you."

 

Ducky looked over at the relieved tone, so Gibbs explained. "Spaghetti-O sauce lady."

 

"Oh." Ducky turned back to Hanna and took her hands. "Thank you, my dear. Thank you so very much."

 

Tim looked over at Gibbs who gave him a slight nod, knowing what Tim wanted to do. Tim saw the nod along with the worry, but silently promised to not overdo it. "Why don't we all eat together tonight? I'm sure you'd love to really look at the house your husband just bought you."

 

That made her smile. She reminded them of a young Jackie Vance or an older version of Kayla. "I still can't believe it. I thought we'd spend our entire lives living in a tiny apartment in a noisy city. All right, we'll see you in a couple of hours."

 

After she left, Gibbs steered Tim toward the sofa. "Okay, you're going to put your feet up for a while. Duck, he on time with all his meds today?"

 

"Well of course."

 

Gibbs had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but Tim distracted them both with his find from earlier. "Did Jackson ever talk about his brother?"

 

"Brother? Jack was an only child." Gibbs thought for a moment. "Wasn't he?"

 

Tim sadly shook his head and handed the letter to Gibbs who joined him on the sofa. "No, he wasn't, he was the youngest of two boys. His brother died in World War II, one of the last sailors to die in the war."

 

"I've never seen these before."

 

"Guess you weren't the kind of kid to just sit down and read the encyclopedia."

 

Gibbs just gave him the glare and started reading.

 

"It makes sense now." Tim didn't know what Gibbs meant, but he waited for him to elaborate. "Jack said the reason he flew a fighter plane was because he didn't want anyone else responsible for his survival. Part of the reasons he was so pissed about me joining the Corps, he didn't want me relying on anyone else, didn't understand that was a large part of what I wanted."

 

"Yeah, it does make sense." Tim thought about what he'd seen in the letters and what a quick internet search had told him about the ship. "There were a lot of injuries, but only three men died. Your grandparents probably thought why him, why was he one of the three? Probably a lot of guilt, too, at least on your grandfather's part. Your uncle enlisted before he turned eighteen so he could go in with his best friend. Mom didn't approve, but his dad signed the papers anyway."

 

Gibbs nodded, then nodded again. He wished his father had told him, it would have made the reluctance and anger much easier to understand. "Any idea what ever happened to his buddy?"

 

Tim glanced down at his phone. He'd been doing a lot of searching on it today since the laptop had been with Gibbs at the store. "Yeah, he was on the same ship, but survived. He never returned to Stillwater, but I found him. He's still alive, lives in a nursing home in Harrisburg."

 

They'd drive right through Harrisburg on their way back to DC. "See if he's up to visitors. Does he have any family?"

 

"Only child, never married. Maybe some cousins, but that would be about it."

 

Gibbs pulled Tim closer, kissing the top of his head. "It's a good thing you really went through those books, then. Find anything else of interest?"

 

"Few things. The books I thought you should keep are in that box over there. Your mom's favorite cookbooks are in there."

 

"Not like I'm going to start entertaining a lot of company."

 

"Maybe not, but you liked meat loaf and mashed potatoes for your birthday dinners." Gibbs turned his head to look directly at him, obviously not knowing how he'd figured that out. "Your mom wrote lots of notes in the margins. Same way that your dad wrote in the books he bought on his travels."

 

"I wish I'd talked to him more about his travels. I bet it would have made a great book."

 

"Well..." Tim hesitated, debating with himself as to when to tell Gibbs, then decided to go for it. "I told Jack the same thing when he was staying with you."

 

"Too bad he never got around to it."

 

"Actually, he did. I told him that if he'd gather everything up and write down all the details he could remember, I'd help him sort it out into a book for you and the team. I found the files in his computer. They're not in any particular order, but it's all there, between that and what he wrote in the books at the time, I can do it. It will take me a while, but I can finish what he started."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The Connors family arrived right on time, heavily loaded as Gibbs opened the front door. Carla was smiling as she carried in a large cake covered in shredded coconut. Behind her was Hanna, a bag of freshly made dinner rolls in one arm, the baby in the other. Behind them was Tom, carefully balancing two hot pans. One contained a chicken and rice dish that smelled pretty tasty and the other was filled by roasted vegetables that Gibbs actually wouldn't mind eating.

 

Gibbs stepped back and pointed the way. "Kitchen's back that way, dining room is on the side." Tom went straight through to the kitchen to put the hot things down on the stove while Carla cut through the living room to get to the dining room. Hanna moved slowly through the house, looking and touching as she went.

 

Carla joined Gibbs in the living room after she'd set the cake down, speaking softly. "She grew up in the projects, never had a home of her own before and she's so excited. Been talking all afternoon about putting in a garden and baking pies with the apples from the tree. Thank you, Jethro. I know you could have gotten a lot more money from this, but what you did for them..."

 

"Money's not everything. If Jack taught me anything, it was that. He'll do Jack proud with the store." Jethro looked at the young couple, hugging and kissing in the kitchen, before he turned to look back at Tim. "I'm set, got everything I need or want. Nowadays its hard for young people to get started in life, especially in a little town. I was glad to help."

 

"You're a good man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Just like your father."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Dinner was a lively event as Jethro, Tom and Carla shared stories about Jack and the store. They were acutely aware of every time Tim coughed and how closely Jethro was watching him, so although fun, they wrapped it up early. As Gibbs walked them to the door, Ducky fetched his bag and pulled out his stethoscope. Gibbs arrived back as he was listening.

 

"Duck?"

 

"His lungs are no worse, but there's been no improvement either. I believe I will have Mr. Palmer bring some stronger steroids with him and perhaps a different antibiotic, just to be on the safe side."

 

Tim knew exactly what that meant. "Ducky, is that really necessary?"

 

"We will give it a little more time, but I would feel better if we had everything here you could possibly need. After all, it will be the weekend and we are in a very small town with limited resources. Unless you'd rather risk missing the funeral?"

 

There was no way Tim was going to let Jethro go through that alone, which was what Ducky was planning on. Tim stared a few seconds longer, then dropped his head. "Fine."

 

"All right, then, take your meds like a good lad and then off to bed with you."

 

Tim glanced at the time, it was still quite early, at least in comparison to their work schedule in DC. "I was hoping to start on the attic this evening."

 

"Absolutely not, young man. The last thing you need is to deal with the dust from the attic. The books today were bad enough."

 

After Ducky's pronouncement, Tim turned to Jethro. One look at Gibbs' face and Tim knew not to argue. "Fine, but it still needs to be done."

 

Tim was right about that so Gibbs thought through their options. "It shouldn't be too bad. Dad wasn't one to keep a lot of stuff that he wasn't using. Tell you what, you go lay down and watch a movie on the laptop or kill some monsters on one of your games and I'll spend an hour or so up there, see what has to be done. If there's a lot, then I'll get a fan going and we can tackle it in the morning."

 

When Tim nodded, Gibbs moved closer to whisper in his ear. "Need you to get completely well, then I'm going to nail you to the mattress."

 

"Promise?"

 

"Oh, yeah." Foreheads touching, Gibbs gave him a tender smile before kissing him slowly, giving him just a hint of the passion that was waiting for him to heal.

 

"Okay."

 

"Good." Jethro kissed him again, staying close to whisper in his ear again. "If you can't find a movie you like, maybe you can start researching lubes and toys." That got a smile.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Once Tim was settled into bed with the laptop and a notepad, Gibbs headed for the narrow stairs to the attic. When Ducky went to follow him, Gibbs shook his head. "Thanks, but I've got this, Duck. Stay down here where you can hear Tim if he needs anything."

 

"All right, Jethro, but if you need any help..."

 

"I'll let you know."

 

Like many houses of that era, the attic was equipped with small windows for light, but attic fans and overhead lights had been added by Jack in the later seventies. Jethro remembered helping his dad wire the attic the summer before he joined the Corps. Sometime since then Jackson had upgraded to fans that were temperature sensitive, automatically turning on when the temperature in the attic reached a certain point. Looking closely Gibbs found the over-ride that allowed him to turn the fans on even though it was still cool.

 

One light was burned out, but it was still light enough to see in most of the attic. As Gibbs had expected, there wasn't a great deal of clutter and what was up there was boxed and neatly stacked. Taking a page from the way Tim and Ducky had been sorting downstairs, Gibbs mentally designated one corner as keep and another as donate.

 

Along the northern wall was a row of boxes stacked three tall, all the same basic size. When Gibbs moved closer he could see that each one was labeled by the year, starting with the year the store opened. Suspecting what he'd find, Gibbs opened 1969 and sure enough it was all the financial records from the store for that year. "Dad, you only had to keep records for seven years."

 

The most recent year's records were set in the keep corner. He'd have to file his father's last tax papers, but the rest he left for Tom. He might find the records and orders useful as he sorted out vendors and seasonal producers that Jack worked with over the years. If nothing else, the old records needed to be either shredded or burned.

 

Business records from 1997 through 1999 were in front of a small dormer and it looked like something was behind the boxes, the light from the neighbor's house reflecting off of something. Curious, Gibbs pulled those boxes out of the way and found his old tricycle.

 

He didn't remember riding it, but he did remember his first bicycle and riding it up and down the streets the Summer he turned seven. He'd always assumed his father wasn't a sentimental man, but that first bicycle was up there, too, right behind his mother's rocking chair.

 

The bike and the trike stayed where they were for now, but Gibbs picked up the chair and moved it over next to the current records box.

 

Gibbs hadn't really been expecting to find the little remnants of their lives together. Curious now, he next tackled the pile in the furthest corner. Whatever it was, it was covered up with a large tarp. Pulling the tarp off stirred up a lot of dust, but it was what was under the tarp that made Gibbs' eyes water. "Oh, Dad."

 

It was a handcrafted Victorian doll house. Six rooms, two towers, filled with handmade furniture. Even the shingles on the roof had been carefully cut out of balsa wood. Wrapped around the doll house was a faded pink and green dotted ribbon, a card taped in place right under the bow. Pulling the card free, Gibbs read the envelope

 

_Happy Birthday, Kelly_

_Love, Grandpa_

 

Gibbs stood for a long time holding the card. Eventually, he put it in his pocket and carefully draped the tarp back over the doll house before retuning to his work.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Here you go, young man." Ducky's unannounced arrival with a cup of herbal tea had Tim scrambling to minimize the window he was looking at, but by the time the good doctor could see the screen, ZNN's website was up on the laptop. "Anything interesting going on at home?"

 

"Umm, no." Tim squeaked, then coughed and Ducky looked at him carefully.

 

"Now that you've been still for a while, I want to give your lungs another listen." Ducky had his stethoscope in his jacket pocket and pulled it out. Alone with McGee in a quiet room, he took his time and carefully listened to Tim's breathing from several areas on both his back and his chest. Finally Ducky pulled the stethoscope away.

 

"Well?"

 

"There's still no sign of wheezing, which is good, but I do wish I could hear breath sounds in your lower right lung a little better. When Mr. Palmer arrives with your new medications you will be starting them right away. If you won't do it for me, you will do it for Jethro, won't you?"

 

"Not playing fair, Ducky."

 

"No, I suppose not, but this is important and Jethro would be the first to agree. Now, I won't worry him by saying anything tonight, but I will be watching your condition very closely tonight and tomorrow. Agreed?"

 

Tim knew better than to argue. "Yeah, okay. The rest of the team is coming tomorrow, too, right?"

 

Ducky patted his knee as he stood to leave. "Don't you worry about them. A little bird told me that Tony, especially, has reached a new level of appreciation for what you did. Even Abby has seen the error of her ways."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ducky looked up as Gibbs walked into the living room with an old rocking chair. Gibbs didn't say a word, just turned around and went back upstairs. Four more trips were made as boxes were stacked near the front door next to the pile Ducky and McGee had gathered that day. He gave Jethro a careful look, observing the extra layer of sadness he seemed to be wearing. "How much more of the attic is left to do?"

 

"It's done." Gibbs pulled an envelope out of his pocket, tapping it on his fingers several times before handing it to Ducky. "Would you make sure this gets tucked into the casket?"

 

"Of course, Jethro." Ducky glanced down and saw the writing. "Are you all right, Jethro?"

 

"Just tired, Duck. It's been a long couple of days."

 

Ducky was pretty sure it was more than that but he didn't press. "Then I suggest an early night after a good hot shower to help you relax and to make sure you don't bring any of that dust into bed with Timothy."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

When Tim heard Gibbs coming up and down the stairs, he shut down the computer. Not surprisingly, when he came upstairs the last time, Jethro went into the bathroom and a few minutes later Tim heard the shower turn on.

 

He was dozing when Jethro finally joined him in the bedroom. Not making a sound, Gibbs crawled into the bed, pulling Tim up against him and spooning with him. Tim could feel him trembling slightly against him as he peppered Tim's head with tiny kisses.

 

Tim didn't say anything at first, just tuned in Jethro's arms to wrap his own arms around the other man, kissed him back and held on.

 

"He made a doll house for Kelly's birthday."

 

"Oh, Jethro." There really was nothing else to say, just hold on as he felt the dampness in his t-shirt.

 


	20. The Passing of the Torch

 

 

For a fleeting moment Tony considered driving up to Stillwater by himself and letting Abby find her own way, but duty prevailed and he pulled up in front of her apartment at the allotted time. She came out of her apartment a few minutes later dragging the biggest suitcase he's seen in quite some time. He climbed out and met her at the curb.

 

"Abby, we're only going to be there for one night."

 

She didn't say a word, just threw her oversized bag into the bed of the truck and walked to the drivers side door. Luckily, Tony had the keys in his hand. "Other side, Abs."

 

"You've never driven a truck, Tony. Let me drive."

 

"No, Gibbs specifically said I was to drive his truck, no one else." Tony took a closer look at her. "Why are you so mad this morning?"

 

Abby glared at him before marching around to the passenger side of the truck. Tony watched as she climbed in and slammed the door before sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest. Really wishing he'd followed his first instinct, Tony got behind the wheel and started up the engine.

 

Instead of putting the truck into gear, he repeated the question. "What's got you all pissy today?"

 

"He lied to us, Tony."

 

Tony knew he was going to regret the next question. "Who?"

 

"Palmer! I found that study he was talking about."

 

"You're saying they didn't die?"

 

"Oh, they died all right, but the average age was sixty-seven. Sixty-seven, Tony. That's – old."

 

"So?" Realizing this argument was going to take most of the trip to Stillwater, Tony got them moving. He let Abby stew until they were out of the DC area and its nightmare traffic. Once they no longer had someone inches from the bumpers, he glanced over at her. "Get over it, Abby. We were out of line. We're going to suck it up and apologize to McGee when we get there."

 

"Apologize? To McGee?"

 

"Novel concept, I know."

 

"What is that supposed to mean?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

It seemed strange driving up to a funeral for someone she'd never met, but these last few days Ellie had heard enough stories that he felt like she knew him and really wished she'd had the chance.

 

The back of her truck was empty save for two small overnight bags and as soon as Jake was off the phone they'd be heading out. When he returned from his study, she recognized the look. "They've called you back to work, haven't they?"

 

"Sorry, babe. Thought we had a slam-dunk, but we've got a problem with a case."

 

"The kind of problem that you fix in five minutes, or the kind that means I'll be home Sunday night before you will?" Watching him pull his bag from the bed of the truck gave her his answer.

 

Tossing his bag over onto the trunk of his car Jake pulled Ellie close for a kiss. "I'm really, really sorry, but maybe this is better. This weekend is about supporting Gibbs and saying goodbye to his father, not checking out the mystery husband."

 

"I know. Doesn't mean I like it."

 

He kissed her again. "I know. Drive safe. Call me tonight."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"I'm hungry."

 

"Tough." Tony barely gave her a glance as he drove.

 

"Toonnnyyyy..."

 

"We're not even past Baltimore, Abby. You should have eaten before we left."

 

Arms still crossed since they'd left her apartment, she turned to glare at him. "I didn't have time. I was too busy researching."

 

"You mean, looking for something to cause trouble with." Tony shook his head as he changed lanes to prepare for their upcoming exit. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, Palmer did us a favor. Tim went above and beyond and could have killed himself. Let's just be grateful to have the chance to fix this."

 

Determined to end the conversation, Tony turned on the radio, only to discover it was only AM. "You've got to be kidding me."

 

"What?"

 

"Gibbs doesn't even have FM radio in this thing."

 

"Then it's a good thing I brought the newest album from Dead Zombies."

 

Abby pulled out her iPod, trying to do something with the cords, and Tony discovered a previously undiscovered desire to hear oldies country, much to her disgust. "Wow, it's Hank Williams."

 

"Who's Hank Williams?"

 

Instead of answering, Tony just turned the radio up.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Good morning."

 

"Good morning to you, too." Tim had gone to sleep with his arms wrapped around Jethro, but when they awoke Tim was laying across him, Jethro's arms tightly holding on. Remembering the painful confession the night before, Tim patiently laid still.

 

Eventually the tight grip relaxed and Gibbs contented himself with stroking his hand up and down Tim's back and Tim was able to tilt his head up enough to see his face. "Did you know about it?"

 

Gibbs didn't pretend to not know what he was talking about. "When Kelly was born, he talked about making one, but I figured it was just talk, you know? Of all his hobbies, he'd never played with woodworking, used to complain about the sawdust I'd drag in."

 

Tim had always assumed he'd learned woodworking from his father. "How'd you learn all the wood stuff?"

 

"Mr. Owens. He was the shop teacher at Stillwater High. Typical shop teacher, nine and a half fingers, slight limp and a perpetual frown, but the stuff he could turn a plain board into – it was magic."

 

"Yeah?" Tim shifted enough that he could raise up on one arm, supporting his head on his hand. "What'd you make?"

 

"Besides lots of fancy kindling? The footstool in the living room and a jewelry box for my first girlfriend. Made one for Shannon eventually, too."

 

Having the memories stirred up, Tim didn't ask about Shannon's jewelry box. "Suppose your old girlfriend still has her jewelry box?"

 

Gibbs snorted, then gave a smirk. "Nah, she broke it over my head when she caught me kissing Patty Stiller."

 

"Jethro!" Tim burst out laughing and slapped his chest. "That's terrible."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Finally."

 

They were already in Pennsylvania before Tony pulled off the freeway for Abby to get something to eat. She wasn't really thrilled with where he stopped, but knew enough to not comment. After staring at the menu, she ordered a bowl of oatmeal, while Tony just had coffee and a cinnamon roll. "That's all you're having?"

 

"Unlike some people, I actually had breakfast before we got on the road." Other that that reminder, Tony stayed quiet until Abby was about half way finished with her breakfast. Finally, he dropped his napkin on the table and leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "What was the range?"

 

"What? Tony, elbows."

 

"I'm done eating and you're avoiding the question. What was the range in age of the patients in that study?"

 

Instead of answering right away, Abby took a big bite of her hot cereal and chewed it slowly while Tony glared at her. Finally she had to swallow and she was pretty sure Tony would grab the bowl away if she tried to get another spoonful. "The oldest was ninety-five."

 

"And the youngest?"

 

Sure enough, when she looked down at her food, Tony yanked it away.

 

"The youngest?"

 

She sighed and finally looked up at him. "Twenty-five, but I'm pretty sure he was one of the actual survivors, and just because they were able to detect the damage in testing doesn't mean that it effects their lives."

 

"Listen to yourself, Abby, just listen." Tony gave her back her oatmeal, but she just picked at it as he continued to talk. "You're telling me that a group of men and women suffered a heat stroke like McGee. Not heat exhaustion, but a fucking heat stroke, and all of the survivors had some detectable amount of apparently permanent damage done to their bodies. Maybe not enough to impact their day to day lives, but it's there for at least – how long did the study follow them?"

 

"A year."

 

"And this doesn't worry you about McGee's future?"

 

Abby finally gave up on eating and dropped the spoon back in the bowl. "I just want everything to go back to the way it was."

 

"It can't." She flinched at the harsh tone, but he didn't seem to notice. "Reality check time, Abby. Jackson is dead. Tim risked his own life to try and save him. He pushed a lot further than I could have, a hell of a lot further, and now he's suffering the consequences. It's not just the physical, either. Jackson was in his hands and even after doing all of that, he couldn't save him. Think about that, Abs. McGee, the guy with the too-big heart, couldn't save Jackson, everybody's favorite grandpa. How do you think that made him feel? Huh? And then we burst in there like we knew what the hell was going on."

 

"I'm trying, Tony."

 

"Well, try harder."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs walked into the store an hour before opening to find Tom already there, sweeping and straightening the shelves. "Morning."

 

"Good morning, Agent Gibbs." He was significantly taller than Gibbs and with much broader shoulders, but right now Tom looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Leaning the broom against the counter, he pointed to the empty spot where Gibbs had taken down the picture of their family in front of the store. "Would it be possible to get a copy of that picture? My mom is going to try and take a picture of me with Hanna and Tommy in the same pose today. Like to show the history of the place."

 

Thinking about it, Gibbs really liked the idea. "Sure, I'll have Tim send you a copy when we get home. Will your mom be able to see well enough to take the picture? If you'd like, I can do it for you. That way your mom can be in the picture, too. She's pretty proud of you."

 

"Thanks, that would be great." Looking almost shy, Tom pulled out a picture he'd stashed under the counter showing him with a beaming Jackson shaking hands in front of the store. "This was taken the day I left for college. I'm gonna put all three pictures up on that wall over there."

 

"Yeah, Jack would like that. Come on, I'll show you the combination to the safe. You'll probably want to change it at some point, might even want to update the safe eventually."

 

"Maybe, I'm not in any hurry to start changing things." Combination in hand, Tom opened the safe and pulled out the envelopes. He held up the one that contained the tally sheets for the town folk that needed to put something on the tab. "This is one thing that's not going to get changed. Not ever."

 

Gibbs smiled at that. "Good man."

 

It was still a bit early, but Tom tuned the sign over and unlocked the door. Gibbs figured he'd stay until about noon, reviewing the suppliers and contracts with Tom between customers. The file Tim had put together for Tom was pretty clear, but he wanted to make sure Tom knew not to trust the delivery driver for the milk company, at least not for a while.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Aww, crap." Ellie felt the tell-tale thumping and pulled off to the side of the road. Sure enough, her right rear tire was flat. She was only feet from an off-ramp, so she stayed on the shoulder and made her way off the freeway to where she could safely change the tire without the risk of her truck getting hit on the narrow shoulder. With any luck she could find somewhere to repair the tire so she wouldn't be driving the rest of the weekend without a spare. It would put her an hour or so behind, but it was better than the alternative.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

By noon it was obvious that Tom Connors was born to run the store. Gibbs watched as he greeted each customer, rang up each sale, smiled at each child. Hanna and Carla arrived with lunch for them and a high chair was given a permanent place to the side of the counter where little Tommy could maul his Cheerios and squeal at the customers. Even Charles Winslow smiled at the youngest member of the community before giving a nod to Gibbs as he paid for his purchase. Tom's casual tapping on the donation jar for the high school's annual drug-free graduation party even got Winslow to drop in a few bills with a laugh.

 

Gibbs' last act as store owner was to settle up with Jeremy as promised before Tom snagged him to work out their schedule. Satisfied, Gibbs offered to walk Carla home as Hanna started washing the front window.

 

"They seem happy."

 

"Oh, Jethro, you have no idea." Carla squeezed the offered arm as they walked back across the yard. Tom was up half the night studying the file Agent McGee gave him. He already knows which vendor supplies every item in the store and the names of every farmer Jackson ever dealt with. Come Spring, he's talking about expanding the fresh produce to run a full farmer's market in the parking lot every weekend."

 

"That's good, a man needs plans. Hanna going to be able to get the job at the school that she wanted?"

 

Carla smiled even wider. "Now that they don't have to worry about a big payment over their heads every month, she's going to just be a substitute teacher for a few years, be home with Tommy more until he starts pre-school. Maybe even have another baby."

 

They were at Carla's back door and she reached up and kissed Gibbs' cheek. "You've given them a wonderful gift and opportunity, Jethro, thank you."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Ducky?"

 

"Yes, lad?" Ducky was sorting the books by size to make them easier to pack. He looked up to see Tim rubbing his side where the worst of the bruising had been.

 

"How much longer are these ribs going to hurt?"

 

That stopped Ducky in his tracks. "The aspirin isn't taking care of the pain?"

 

"Not anymore. Should it?"

 

"Yes, it should." Ducky started reviewing Tim's condition, taking into account the newly confessed symptom as he grabbed his bag. "Let's get your shirt off and show me exactly where you're feeling pain this morning."

 

Tim hadn't been breathing very deeply since he'd been hurt, but that was to be expected with the deeply bruised ribs, but today the simple act of removing his shirt seemed to leave him a little short of breath. Ducky pulled out his stethoscope. "I know it's painful, but I need you to breathe as deeply as you can for me." This time there was a definite rubbing sound as McGee's lungs expanded and contracted.

 

Tim saw the worried expression. "Ducky?"

 

"Let me see how close Mr. Palmer is." Without any other explanation, Ducky turned and left the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him.

 

 


	21. Trouble

 

 

Jimmy smiled as he looked over at his sleeping wife. They'd left quite early and she'd fallen asleep as they drove. When he phone rang, he quickly answered it, hoping it didn't wake her.

 

"Hello?"

 

_Mr. Palmer, tell me how close are you?_

 

There was an undertone of urgency in Ducky's voice so Jimmy didn't waste any time. "We just passed Danville. Is McGee worse? I have the medications you wanted for him."

 

_I'm afraid he is. You're making excellent time, Jimmy, and I'd like you to make a detour to Berwick for me. Timothy's doctor there will have everything ready for you by the time you arrive._

 

Jimmy glanced back at Breena, who was starting to stir. "Okay, we'll go straight there and then get to Stillwater as quickly as we can."

 

_Thank you, Jimmy. You're quite the lifesaver._

 

After the call ended, Jimmy realized that he wasn't sure if Dr. Mallard meant in the figurative sense or the literal. Either way, he increased his speed just a touch. If McGee's doctor had everything ready by the time they arrived, they could still be in Stillwater within the hour.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs had known Ducky long enough that he could tell something was wrong the second he walked into the house. Just the other man's posture set off his internal alarm. "Duck, what is it?"

 

"I am hoping it is just my overly cautious nature, but Timothy's pain levels have increased some and I'm hearing some things in his breathing that may be worrisome."

 

He forced himself to keep his fears in check. "Hospital?"

 

"Not necessarily, Jethro. Mr. Palmer will be here shortly and we will be able to start Timothy immediately on a high dose steroid along with a different antibiotic and stronger pain medications. Even if we were to take him to the hospital right now, the same exact thing would be done. After that, all we can do it to wait a few hours and see if there's any change. As long as he doesn't get any worse from this point on, we can continue to treat him here where he's more comfortable."

 

"You're sure?"

 

"Yes. Even the absolute worst case scenario will be covered when Mr. Palmer arrives."

 

Gibbs wasn't sure what that meant, or if he really wanted to know. "And for now?"

 

"And for now, he's had the maximum dosage of everything he's currently taking and is resting on the sofa. I'd suggest joining him to make sure he continues to rest."

 

"Is he running a fever?"

 

Ducky had checked it twice so far this morning. "His temperature is slightly elevated, however it could be a residual effect of the heat stroke. Again, we will just have to wait and see."

 

Nodding, Gibbs hung his coat up by the back door and continued on in to the living room in the front of the house. He kicked off his shoes and sat down, shifting them around until Tim was draped over his lap, his head resting on Jethro's shoulder. Gibbs didn't say anything, just hummed softly and rubbed Tim's back as he dozed.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Even if he hadn't had the address, finding Jackson Gibbs' house would have been easy just by looking at the number of cars surrounding the place. An old pickup was in the driveway, a smaller car with a window sticker from a rental agency right behind it. Out on the street was a familiar Agency sedan and Jimmy carefully took the last spot in front of the house. The others would have to park further away and walk, but since Jimmy had the medical supplies, he figured he had first dibs. The prescriptions he'd filled last night were in his bag, but the extra supplies from Dr. Owens took up several boxes. Determined to make it in one trip, Jimmy handed the bag to Breena and stacked the boxes, the heavier on on the bottom.

 

Ducky met them at the door and took the top box from Jimmy. "Thank you, Mr. Palmer. Now, Timothy is resting in the living room so we will go straight on in to the kitchen."

 

Used to following orders from Ducky, Jimmy did exactly what he was told, But Breena stopped for a moment to watch the two men before continuing on.

 

"I didn't realize that Gibbs and McGee were a couple."

 

"A couple of what?" Jimmy stared at his wife, no knowing what she meant. Breena smiled and shook her head. "A couple, couple, Honey. They're obviously together and I think it's sweet. How many of the team know about them?"

 

"Well, not me." Confused, Jimmy set the box down and walked back far enough to see into the living room. Gibbs was sitting in the corner of the sofa, eyes closed, with Tim draped across his lap, asleep. As he watched, Tim stirred slightly but Gibbs nuzzled against him and lulled him back to sleep without ever opening his own eyes. Jimmy's first thought was that Gibbs was also asleep, but he'd never been convinced that the other man actually slept.

 

With a touch on the arm, Ducky steered Jimmy back to the kitchen where Breena was waiting for them. "It is a new development and we are the only ones that know about it."

 

"Wow." Jimmy shrugged and looked back down the hallway. "Well, they look pretty comfortable with each other."

 

"Yes, they do, don't they?" Ducky opened the first box. "Now, let's make sure we have everything we might need this weekend. We'll wake them in a few minutes."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Abby stared as yet another exit passed by without them pulling off. She'd been hinting, but Tony had decide he wasn't listening to her today. "Aren't we going to need gas soon?"

 

"Nope, double tank on this, remember? Besides, it's not that far. We didn't stop at all the last time we drove up here, remember?" His arm ached as he thought about the hours of 'punch buggy' he'd put up with, but he'd take that again over this sullen, snarky version. Trying to lighten her mood he tapped at her arm. "Buggy." She slapped at his arm.

 

"Stop it, Tony, I'm not in the mood."

 

Rolling his eyes, Tony let their speed creep up just a bit more. Traffic was actually pretty light and he was hoping to shave at least thirty minutes off the trip.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"I'm awake." Gibbs hadn't moved or opened his eyes, which made Ducky jump.

 

"Really, Jethro, a little warning would be nice. How long have you been awake?"

 

This time Gibbs did open his eyes even though he didn't move. "Palmer needs a new muffler on his car."

 

"I'll be sure to pass that along. Does this mean you and Timothy are not going to hide your relationship from the rest of the team?"

 

"Palmer knows when to keep his mouth shut. As for the rest of the team, we'll see. Wasn't going to move him, that's for sure. Not when he's sleeping this peacefully."

 

"Be that as it may, I do want to get his new medications started as soon as possible."

 

Gibbs nodded at that, then started kneading Tim's shoulders. "Hey, need you to wake up for a few minutes, okay?"

 

Tim muttered something as he burrowed his face deeper against Jethro's throat, making the other man chuckle. "Take your pills and you can go right back to sleep, I promise."

 

They weren't sure if McGee was actually awake, but he did raise up enough to swallow down the pills and the water Ducky put in his hands before settling right back down to sleep. Gibbs looked rather pleased with that and Ducky quietly retreated back to the kitchen, Palmer at his heels.

 

Back inside the kitchen, Ducky gave Palmer a careful look and Jimmy blushed and shrugged. "Muffler is on order. It should be in on Monday."

 

That wasn't what Ducky was concerned about, but Breena joined them, wrapping her arm around Jimmy's waist. "They were two of the loneliest people we know. We're really happy for them, Dr. Mallard."

 

"Yeah, we are." Jimmy kissed his wife, then turned serious. "What about Tony and Abby?"

 

Ducky looked concerned. "That's a very good question, Mr. Palmer. Jethro will have to make a decision in the next hour or so, I'm afraid."

 

To have something to do, Jimmy double checked everything he'd brought from the hospital. "I know we left before they did, but they didn't have to go to Berwick. They could be here in the next hour or so, depending on how many times Abby made Tony stop for Caf-Pow."

 

"We will let Timothy sleep for another half hour, then we will encourage him to go upstairs and stretch out on the bed. That way Jethro can make his decisions based on what's best for he and Timothy, not what Abigail wants."

 

"Good." Jimmy looked at the assorted large bore needles, tubes and bottles in addition to the vials of local anesthesia, rolls of gauze, bottle of Betadine and various other medical supplies.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony slowed down as he assessed the parking situation. "Guess we're not going to park in front. I'm going to go around the block and park in front of the neighbor's house, Abby."

 

"Okay, I'll let Gibbs know."

 

"What?"

 

Before Tony could react, Abby popped open the passenger side door and hopped out of the still slowly moving truck and ran toward the house. Cursing under his breath, Tony desperately looked for a closer spot.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Thank you so much for taking care of this so quickly." Ellie signed the receipt and handed it back to the mechanic. Her spare was back in its spot and the repaired tire was back on her truck.

 

"Glad we could help."

 

Ellie hit the vending machine in the waiting area one more time before leaving the tire shop. She'd left fairly early and with any luck this would be her only stop of the trip so she shouldn't be too far behind the rest of them.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Hearing his truck coming down the street, Gibbs nudged Tim's shoulder. "Hey, the invasion from DC is arriving."

 

"M'kay." Tim straightened up and Gibbs helped him to sit up better.

 

Letting him move at his own pace, Gibbs frowned as Tim rubbed his chest, breathing shallowly and wincing in pain. The new medications couldn't work fast enough as far as he was concerned. They both stood as the truck moved further down the street, obviously looking for a parking space and Gibbs pulled Tim close for a final kiss. "I'm not ashamed at all, but I want to wait until I know how Abby and Tony are going to treat you before we tell them, okay?"

 

"Yeah, okay." Tim melted into the strong arms, wrapping his own arms around Jethro's neck as he returned the kiss. The loud slamming of the door made them both jump.

 

"What the hell! What are you doing to Gibbs? I knew it, I knew you were up to something, McGee. You faked all this just to get your hands on Gibbs, didn't you? I bet you didn't even try to save Jackson."

 

Tim froze at the accusation, but Gibbs was already on the move, intercepting Abby before she could get to McGee.

 

"Have you gone stark raving mad, Abby? What in the hell has gotten into you?"

 

"Me? It's McGee you should be questioning. He's always wanted you and now he's orchestrated this whole thing to get his hands on you."

 

Gibbs grabbed her upper arms and tried to shake some sense into her. "Listen to yourself. Just listen to yourself, Abby."

 

"He's always wanted you, I could see it in his eyes."

 

Gibbs pushed her away. "Good, because I always wanted him."

 

"No. No, no, no. You guys can't do that. Stop it, stop it right now." The sound of a hand striking flesh echoed through the room.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The second they heard Abby's voice, Ducky ran for the living room. Jimmy was right behind him but stopped the moment he saw the expression on Tim's face. He watched as surprise then shock and finally pain showed on Tim's face. It took a few moments, but Jimmy realized that the pain wasn't entirely emotional. He moved closer to McGee, trying to ignore the shouting match that was going on a few feet away.

 

He heard Abby slap Gibbs and in the sudden quiet he could tell that Tim was struggling to breathe. "Tim, what's going on?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ducky had suspected that Abby would be the one to struggle with the new relationship the most, but he never dreamed she'd react that harshly. Her outburst surprised even her as she stood with her hands over his mouth staring at the red mark on Gibbs' cheek.

 

Before Ducky could figure out how to defuse the situation, Jimmy called out from behind him. When Ducky turned, Jimmy was supporting McGee, who was very obviously in trouble. "Timothy!"

 

Within seconds all three men were around McGee, but it was Gibbs he reached for. "Can't... can't catch... my breath."

 

"It's going to be all right, lad." Ducky looked up at Gibbs, seeing the near panicked expression. "We need him in the kitchen, Jethro, where I have better light."

 

Gibbs nodded. Anyone could see that he wanted to scoop Tim up and carry him. Jimmy stepped even closer and lifted one of McGee's arms to drape it over his shoulder and Gibbs mirrored his actions on the other side. Before they could move, the front door opened again and Tony was standing in the front hallway.

 

"Abby, what is going on, I could hear you all the way out on the street." Tony looked past Abby and saw Gibbs and Jimmy practically carrying Tim. "Oh, my God, what happened?"

 

Jimmy didn't waste any time. "Tony, come help Gibbs so I can help Dr. Mallard set up the equipment."

 

Tony rushed to do what he was told and as soon as he could let go of McGee Jimmy sprinted to the kitchen.

 

 

 

 


	22. Emergency Procedures

 

 

Tony briefly wondered how active the parking patrol was in Stillwater as he found a spot that left his bumper hanging over a school crosswalk a few inches. At least it was Saturday and school wasn't in session. Laughing to himself at the irony of locking Gibbs' truck in such a little town when his house back home didn't even have locking doors, Tony jogged across the street and headed toward Jack's place.

 

He'd hoped to find Abby cuddling her two favorite men, but he could hear her yelling and screaming before he even reached the front door. He ran, flinging the door open in front of him. "Abby, what is going on, I could hear you all the way out on the street."

 

Movement behind Abby caught Tony's attention. Palmer and Gibbs were supporting McGee as his knees buckled. "Oh, my God, what happened?"

 

Tony rushed forward when Palmer yelled, his mind spinning, sorting out every clue, every sound he'd heard. Every cop, every fed, knows the sound of flesh hitting flesh. "She hit him?" Looking up, waiting for confirmation, he saw the mark on Gibbs' own cheek. "She hit you?"

 

The realization made him stumble and he almost lost his grip on Tim. Cursing under his breath, he tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. In the kitchen Ducky was grabbing his stethoscope and a pack of gloves while an already gloved Palmer was opening sterile packets of tubing and needles.

 

"Duck?"

 

For the first time since he'd met him, Gibbs sounded scared and that was one thing Tony didn't know how to fix.

 

Ducky, at least, could do something practical. He could save McGee, at least that was what Tony was hoping. "Sit him in that chair, get his shirt off and then let him lean forward onto the table."

 

They helped McGee into the chair, Gibbs quickly pulling his shirt off of him, several buttons flying in the process. Once that was done, Tim leaned forward, his arms draped on the table. Gibbs sat across from him, taking his hands. "Ducky, what's happening to him?"

 

"The inflammation in his lungs has caused pleurisy. Usually it will resolve with time and medications, but I am afraid that is not the case this time."

 

"English, Duck."

 

Ducky just held his hand up as he listened to McGee's lungs. Once he was done he nodded at Palmer and started to pull on the gloves. "Pleurisy is an inflammation of the layers of tissue between the lungs and chest wall. On occasion, it will worsen and air or fluid will develop in that space, pressing on the lungs and making breathing difficult. If it becomes severe enough, steps must be taken to lessen the pressure. With Mr. Palmer's assistance, I am going to drain the fluid and that should relieve the problem."

 

Tony watched as Palmer stepped in and swabbed McGee's back and side with something that left an orange stain. "What is that?"

 

"Betadine." Palmer didn't stop as he talked, opening and laying out a sterile pad on the table before setting the supplies Ducky would need on it.

 

It took Tony a minute to fully register what was happening. It really wasn't until he saw the syringe, the tubing and the huge needle that he realized how the fluid would be removed. "Oh, shit."

 

"Indeed." Ducky didn't look at Tony, instead nodding to Gibbs. It was a small table but Gibbs still had to stretch to reach, not only holding Tim's hands, but resting their foreheads together. When Ducky picked up the syringe and started injecting what Tony assumed was a deadening agent into McGee's back, Tony looked up to study Abby who was standing in the doorway.

 

Abby was silent, hands still pressed against her mouth, as she watched the four men at the table. She finally turned her head and made eye contact with Tony, who shook his head. He didn't know what had set her off, but in his gut he knew her reaction had probably made McGee's issues worse. Abby closed her eyes and he could see tears running down her face, but he didn't have it in him to care at the moment.

 

Tony turned his attention back to what was happening at the table, just in time to see Ducky pick up what had to be the largest needle he'd ever seen. Not wanting to see that penetrate McGee's skin, Tony very carefully and deliberately looked at McGee and Gibbs and how they were interacting.

 

Under the fear there was a great deal of tenderness in the way Gibbs was caring for McGee. Not the gruff, tough-love he'd experienced over the years, instead it was more like the touch of a lover. Questioning his theory, he watched the two men. The thick, strong fingers stroked lightly across Tim's temple as Gibbs kept up a stream of words too soft for Tony to hear.

 

Stepping to the side and definitely not looking at the liquid that was draining down the rubber tube now attached to the needle, Tony joined Breena who was staying out of the way, but close enough if they needed an extra set of hands. "Gibbs and McGee?"

 

Also watching the couple, she just nodded.

 

"Since when?"

 

Breena turned away from the scene to look at Tony. He saw Abby shift closer, but ignored her for now. "It's been since they've been here."

 

Tony had always suspected that McGee had a bit of a crush on Gibbs but he never dreamed it was in any way mutual, let alone that the older man would act on it. "But..."

 

She laid a hand on his arm. "Tony... look, I deal with dead people all day long, which means I also deal with their families and loved ones."

 

He nodded at that, realizing that Breena would have a unique perspective on what was happening. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, about rebounding and not thinking things through, but he stopped and looked at the couple again. There was a contentment there he'd never seen in either of them before today, even with the grief of losing Jackson and the terror of what was happening now. Instead, he turned back to Breena waiting for more.

 

"Life is short, Tony and it's never more obvious than after a loved one dies. All the things unfulfilled, the things left undone. Sometimes it's a wake-up call to stop wasting time doing what society thinks you should do and go after what you really want."

 

"And sometimes it's a knee-jerk reaction that's all wrong."

 

It was the first time Abby had spoken since Tony walked through the door. His voice was tired as he tried to understand. "What's wrong about it, Abby? Is it because they're both men or because it means you won't be first in their lives for once?"

 

"Tony, that's a terrible thing to say."

 

"Truth hurts, doesn't it?" Dismissing her from his mind for the moment, Tony turned his attention back to what was happening at the table.

 

Apparently Ducky had the needle still in place because he was filling some small test tubes with fluid. Tony still didn't want to look, so he again looked at Gibbs and McGee. He didn't know if it was his imagination or if the local was calming him down but McGee seemed to be breathing easier. "Is it helping?"

 

Ducky didn't say anything at first, carefully checking McGee before finally appearing satisfied. "How are you feeling, lad?"

 

Tim didn't move his body but lifted his head enough to look Gibbs in the eye with a soft smile. "Better, I feel better. It's easier to breath now, a lot easier."

 

"Good." Ducky carefully removed the needle and put pressure on the spot. "Mr. Palmer and I will monitor you very closely but I do not think a hospital trip will be necessary." When Gibbs looked up at him, he gave a reassuring smile. "This is done as an outpatient procedure quite often, Jethro. Hospitalization is only absolutely required if the drains are left in place."

 

Gibbs didn't look entirely convinced. "Okay, if you're sure."

 

Tony decided it was time to step in. "Do you want some help moving him to the bedroom?"

 

"No." Tim shook his head before Gibbs could accept the offer. "I'd rather go back to the sofa, I was pretty comfortable before."

 

"Then the sofa it is." Ducky and Jimmy helped him up, Ducky stepping back when Gibbs joined them. Gibbs gave a slight nod to Tony but refused to even look at Abby as they walked back into the living room. Since Tim still wasn't wearing a shirt, Tony nudged the heat up a few degrees as he walked past the thermostat, following them.

 

Once in the living room Gibbs sat down and pulled Tim close, getting them settled into the same position they had been when Jimmy and Breena arrived, with Tim draped across him. Ducky disappeared for a moment and came back with a light blanket that he spread out over them.

 

Not knowing what else to do, Tony perched on a chair across from the sofa and watched closely, ready to jump up if they needed anything. Eventually, Gibbs turned his head enough to look Tony in the eye.

 

"You got anything to say?"

 

Tony thought carefully about what he'd seen between them. "He's my best friend, Gibbs."

 

"I know."

 

"Yeah, well, just remember that because if you ever hurt him, I'm gonna kick your ass." He held still, waiting. He'd never spoken to Gibbs like that before. Gibbs' eyes had widened and he continued to stare for a long moment before smiling.

 

"Good."

 

"Gibbs?" Abby was edging closer to the pair, but instead of answering or even acknowledging her presence, Gibbs just closed his eyes and nuzzled his face down against Tim's neck.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ducky and Palmer had quietly retreated to join Breena in the kitchen. Jimmy picked up the vials of fluid, preparing to take them back to Berwick for testing when Breena stopped him. "I'll take it, that way you can stay and help if Tim has anymore trouble."

 

"Thanks, Breena." Jimmy pulled his wife closer for a kiss.

 

After the kiss ended, she smiled as she took the box filled with the vials. "I'll even take Abby with me, get her out from underfoot here for a few hours."

 

That got her a kiss from Ducky as well. "Thank you, my dear."

 

Squaring her shoulders, Breena walked back into the living room. Abby had managed to shift closer to the pair, but Tony was standing between her and them, all three men refusing to acknowledge her in any way. Breena plastered on a smile and held up the keys. "Abby, you're coming with me to Berwick."

 

"I don't want to."

 

Before anyone else could say anything, Ducky joined them, physically turning Abby toward the door. "It wasn't a request."

 

"Ducky!"

 

There was no kindness or humor in his eyes this time and Abby followed Breena without another word, opening the door just as Bishop was about to knock. "Hi, sorry I'm late, car trouble."

 

Abby didn't say a word, just pushed past her and stalked down the steps. Ellie watched her before turning to Tony who had followed Breena to the door. "What did I miss?"

 

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Bishop, you have no idea."

 

 


	23. Thinking and Planning

 

 

Breena had carefully secured the sample box in the trunk of the car, worried that excitedly waving hands might knock it over but Abby sat stone-faced and cross-armed in the car without saying a word. She let her stew for a while before starting a one-sided, casual conversation. "It's always nice when something good can come out of something bad, isn't it? I mean, both Agent Gibbs and Agent McGee have led such lonely lives..."

 

That did it. "They weren't lonely, they had me. They didn't need anything else."

 

She wasn't dumb, not by a long shot, but Breena was an expert in using the 'dumb blonde look' to her advantage. "They were both your lovers?"

 

"What? No, of course not."

 

"But McGee used to be?"

 

"That was over a long time ago, before he even joined the team."

 

"So, Gibbs is your lover now? No wonder why you hit him if he was cheating on you."

 

"No, he's not my lover. What is it with you and these crazy ideas?" Abby finally turned and looked at her.

 

Breena thought about the various things Jimmy had mentioned to her over the years. "So, what is Gibbs to you, then?"

 

"He's my silver fox. He takes care of whatever I need."

 

Abby looked pleased with her explanation and Breena gave a slight nod. "Okay, so what is McGee to you?"

 

"He's my McGee, I love him like I love puppies. He brings me food when I need it and takes me to concerts and to clubs, whatever I need him to do."

 

Exactly what Breena was expecting. "So, what do they get out of it?"

 

Abby's mouth opened, then snapped shut. Breena smiled to herself and turned her attention back to the road.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Wow, pleurisy? My grandmother had that once, but they didn't have to drain it. Is he really going to be okay, Ducky?" Ellie was perched on the arm of the chair Tony was sitting in and he was casually trying to avoid her hands as she talked. "I know the crisis must have sucked, but it might be a good thing because now they'll know exactly what antibiotic will work the best and it won't take all those weeks for the fluid to be reabsorbed by the body."

 

Tony finally grabbed the moving arm and pulled it down so he could actually see. "Is that why Breena is taking the sample to Berwick?"

 

"Yes, the lab there will confirm the strain of infection if there is any and then Breena will bring back any changes in medications Dr. Owens or myself feel is necessary. In the meantime, we will continue with the medications we have here and let him rest." Ducky very pointedly looked toward the kitchen and Tony immediately took the hint and nudged Ellie to get her moving. As they stood he glanced back over at Gibbs. The mark had faded without leaving a bruise, but Tony was sure he was going to see it for a long time.

 

Once in the kitchen, Ellie kept going, tugging on Tony's arm. "Come on, show me the back yard."

 

He was pretty sure she wanted to talk without being overheard and sure enough, when they were far enough away from the house she stopped and stared at him, crossing her arms. "Okay, tell me the rest."

 

Tony debated for a minute, but it wasn't fair to Ellie to be the only one that didn't know. "Gibbs and McGee are together."

 

She didn't look at all surprised. "Well, duh."

 

"Wait a minute, you knew? How could you have known? They just got together." Tony was sure that was what Breena had said and he was even more sure he'd have noticed otherwise.

 

Ellie waved her hand back at the house like it was the most obvious thing. "Umm, hello, Gibbs ever have you curled up on his lap sleeping like that?"

 

"That would be a no." Tony laughed and ran his hand through his hair. "Yeah, that would be a definite no. So, you're okay with it?"

 

"Sure, why wouldn't I be? My oldest brother is gay, Tony. First thing that happened after I moved to DC was that he and his partner came out here and got married. Jake and I stood up with them." She stared at him and he could practically see the gears turning. "Are you okay with it?"

 

"Yeah, I am." Tony smiled and gave a little shrug. He'd been shocked at first, but he loved them both. "There's only one guy in my life that deserves happiness even more than Tim and that's Gibbs. The fact that they found happiness together, that's... that's really cool."

 

Ellie was still thinking. "So, if I'm okay with it and you're okay with it, then who... Abby. So, that was her problem when I got here?"

 

"Yep."

 

"Why?"

 

Tony thought about how to sum it up in a few words. "Abby thinks she should be number one in both Gibbs and McGee's lives. It was bad enough when one or the other of them was in a relationship with someone, but now they both are and it's with each other..."

 

"So what? I mean, I heard that she and McGee used to date but that ended a long time ago, right?"

 

"Yeah, before he even joined the team."

 

"Who broke it off?"

 

"She did."

 

"So, she doesn't want him but she doesn't want anyone else to have him either?"

 

"Pretty much."

 

"She never dated Gibbs, did she?"

 

"No, that's a daddy complex."

 

"Ahh, Daddy's little princess doesn't like to share?"

 

"Exactly."

 

"What happens now? She could break up the team, couldn't she?"

 

Tony had been hoping not to think about that possibility. "Officially, couples can't be on the same team. It's a safety thing. Supposedly, in a bad situation they'd put each other ahead of the rest of the team."

 

"No, not those two." Ellie shook her head. "I don't believe it for a minute."

 

He'd been glad to hear her stance. As the newest member of the group with the least experience and the most to lose, he would have felt obligated to support her if she'd felt uncomfortable with the changes. She was still thinking out loud so he stayed quiet.

 

"We have to make sure she doesn't do something stupid to break up the team."

 

Tony couldn't help but snort. "She's already done something stupid. She slapped Gibbs."

 

"She hit him?" Ellie seemed almost pleased with that bit of knowledge and Tony couldn't figure out why.

 

"You're saying that like it's a good thing, Bishop."

 

"Striking a federal officer can get a person arrested."

 

"Yeah..." Tony was beginning to see where she was going with this, but let her continue.

 

"There were witnesses?"

 

"I didn't see it but I think everyone else did."

 

"Isn't that grounds for termination? If she wants to keep her job..."

 

"She'll have to keep her mouth shut." Tony grinned as he finished her thought. He was pretty sure Gibbs would balk at actually arresting Abby unless she took a swing at McGee, but he could see how useful the threat could be. "Bishop, I like the way you think."

 

He gave her a high five, then shivered. "Can we go back inside now?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs knew that if he called out they would have Ducky and Jimmy at their side almost immediately and that Tony and Bishop would be back inside from the back yard only a few seconds later, but he enjoyed the illusion of privacy as Tim peacefully dozed on him. He was stroking his fingertips lightly up and down Tim's arm as he enjoyed the soft puffs of air against his throat as Tim was now breathing comfortably.

 

It took a few seconds to realize his fingers were following the texture of a scar and a few seconds longer to remember what caused that scar to begin with. Tim's arm shifted right before his eyes opened as he whimpered.

 

"Does that still hurt?"

 

"Not really. The scar's still sensitive to light touch, that's all. If you rub harder, it's fine."

 

Gibbs thought about that for a moment. He knew he'd rubbed Tim's arm over the last few days but he'd been using his whole hand, not his fingertips. He repeated what he'd done last night, stroking his palm across the skin and that had Tim practically purring. "So like that is okay?"

 

"Yeah, that feels good."

 

"I'm sorry." Gibbs pressed his lips against Tim's forehead. "I should have put a stop to her crap a long time ago."

 

"What's going to happen? I've forgiven her for a lot, but hitting you..."

 

Gibbs hated the fact that Abby's behavior over the years had necessitated so much forgiving but the knowledge that his personal safety was where Tim definitely drew the line gave him a warm feeling at the same time. "My protector."

 

"Somebody's got to." Tim tilted his head up to look him in the eye. "If we're going to be together then the lone wolf stuff has got to stop, Jethro. I get that you're the team leader and you're always going to take the most risk, but you've got to let us watch your back better than you used to."

 

Sighing, Gibbs pulled Tim's head back down to kiss his hair. That was going to be the hardest part. "Might have to kick me in the ass a few times to remind me."

 

"Planning on it."

 

Gibbs snorted at the amusement in Tim's voice. "You don't have to like the idea **that** much."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Returning inside, both Tony and Ellie headed straight for the coffee pot. Ducky smiled from the table as he was reading the local paper. "That's decaffeinated coffee, children."

 

Tony's hand snapped back as if he'd been burned. "You're trying to sneak decaf to the Boss, Ducky? Are you crazy?"

 

Ducky calmly folded the paper to read the next page. "It was Jethro's idea. Timothy cannot have caffeine until he recovers and Jethro has made the choice to share in that."

 

"Wow, really?"

 

Ellie smiled as she went ahead and poured a cup. "If that doesn't convince Abby, I don't know what will."

 

 

 

 


	24. Facing Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catching up. Thought this had been posted already.

 

 

Abby was sitting in the waiting room while Breena was talking to Dr. Owens, slightly miffed that she hadn't been invited into the conversation. While she was sitting there she'd heard several nurses talking about how brave McGee had been and how amazed they were about what he'd done and how worried they were now about him. They hadn't called him by name of course, but how many heat stroke patients would a hospital of this size have in the middle of Winter? Two of the nurses had even talked about driving up to Stillwater for the funeral tomorrow. Beginning to doubt herself, Abby tucked her feet up under her and wrapped her arms around her knees.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Hearing soft voices, Tony crept back into the living room, smiling when Gibbs looked up. "Hey, how's he doing? Anything we can do? Anything we can get you? Maybe some coffee?"

 

Gibbs had to smile at how hard Tony was trying. "Some coffee would be great. Thanks, Tony."

 

"Cup of coffee coming up." As he turned to leave, the scars on Tim's arm caught his eye. "Whoa, I didn't know that left such a scar."

 

"Yeah, still bothers him, too."

 

"He hasn't worn short sleeved shirts or even rolled his sleeves up since he got hurt back then." Tony knew Tim was awake even if he hadn't said anything so he reached out and gently laid his hand on Tim's shoulder. "I bet Ducky could give you a reference to a good plastic surgeon. That was a work injury and if it's still giving you trouble, it's not just a cosmetic issue. Just think about it, okay? Ellie and I will make sure Abby doesn't hassle you about it."

 

"Thanks, Tony."

 

"Anytime, buddy. You want a cup of coffee too, or are you going to steal some of Gibbs'?"

 

Tim's smile drew a snort from Gibbs and a chuckle from Tony. "One **large** cup of coffee coming up then."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Abby looked up as Breena came out of the doctor's office. "I'm going to wait down in the cafeteria. It'll be about an hour while they run lab tests to see if Tim has an infection in addition to everything else." There was no explicit invitation there, but Abby jumped up and followed her.

 

Once in the cafeteria Breena picked up a fruit and cheese plate along with a cup of tea while Abby settled for a cup of coffee when she didn't find any Caf-Pow. Both orders paid for, Abby meekly followed Breena to a corner table.

 

"I'm not a bad person." When Breena didn't either agree or challenge that statement, Abby continued, trying to justify her behavior. "I mean, I go to church and I donate to a lot of causes and I volunteer all the time."

 

Breena continued to stare and Abby fumbled with several packets of sugar, trying to sweeten the bitter brew. "I even stood up against the Church about gay marriage."

 

"You left your church?"

 

"Well, no."

 

"You had a debate with the priest during the services?"

 

"No, of course not. That wouldn't be right. But I signed the petitions and forwarded them on Facebook. Besides, the nuns know that I would attend a gay wedding if I was invited."

 

"But you don't approve of any of your friends being gay, so it's kind of a moot point, isn't it? Or are you waiting for some stranger to invite you to their wedding so you can do your good deed of the day?"

 

That got Abby mad. "I don't care if someone's gay." Again, Breena was just staring at her and Abby bristled. "Gibbs isn't gay. I would know."

 

"Like you knew about his first wife and little girl?"

 

Abby opened her mouth to answer, then snapped it shut.

 

Giving her a moment to think about that, Breena speared a chunk of melon and ate it before setting her fork down again. "Gibbs is a very private man, right?" She got a silent nod in response.

 

"He report in about what he's feeling?" This time there was a shake of the head, swinging the limp ponytails.

 

"Ask your permission?"

 

That made Abby blink. "God, no, never."

 

"But you think he should?"

 

Abby started to object, opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

 

"Is that why you hit him?"

 

"I..." Abby dropped her head. "I don't know."

 

"Or was it because he stole McGee from you?"

 

"What? No, I don't want... that was over a long time ago."

 

"And nobody gets your leftovers, right?"

 

"No!" Abby looked horrified at the suggestion. "McGee's a nice guy, he's too nice for his own good."

 

"Ah, so the problem **is** Gibbs. You can't trust him with McGee."

 

"No, that's not it, either."

 

Breena leaned forward, letting just a touch of temper show. "Then what is it? You act like they're the two most important men in your life. That they've both lonely and have been hurt over and over again. That you don't want either one of them that way. I would have thought out of everyone, you would have been the most happy that they found each other. Instead, when Tim's health was the most fragile, when they both were the most vulnerable, you turned on them."

 

"But if they're together, where do I fit in?" As soon as the words came out, Abby threw her hands up over his mouth in horror. Finally she dropped them as guilt crept over her features. "Am I that needy?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Coffee poured all around, and in Tony's case heavily doctored, Ellie and Tony joined Ducky and Jimmy at the kitchen table. It took a few minutes, but Ducky brought them all up to date. Tony eyes went wide at the small amount of money Gibbs sold the store and house for but he didn't say anything, just shook his head. Gibbs had never cared much about money and this was no exception. Appearances didn't matter much to Gibbs either, but what he'd seen on McGee's arm was more than appearance.

 

"Ducky, have you seen McGee's arm?"

 

"His arm? You're referring to the scars from the dog bite? You are correct in that they haven't faded as much as I'd hope they would, but I'm not sure I would consider that an issue, unless it makes McGee self-conscious."

 

Tony kept his voice low as to not carry. "Actually, they still hurt – well, he called it sensitive, but they bother him enough that Gibbs has to be careful about how he touches them." He hadn't needed Gibbs to tell him that, he'd seen it for himself, along with the tenderness in the usually cold blue eyes.

 

Ducky looked both surprised and upset at the information. "I can certainly refer him to a qualified surgeon when we return to DC, but I wouldn't recommend that anything be done until his lungs have healed."

 

There was a knock at the front door, interrupting the conversation. From the kitchen they could see down the hallway, and through the glass in the door. Ducky squinted, trying to get a better look as Jimmy climbed to his feet to answer. It was a woman with casserole, not an unexpected visitor in this small town under the circumstances, but remembering who Hanna intercepted yesterday made Ducky cautious. "Mr. Palmer, be sure to get her name."

 

Jimmy nodded as he left the room and Ellie gave her own nod, this one a nod of approval. "We need to make sure thank you notes go to everyone that brings food."

 

"Actually," Ducky paused as they listened to Jimmy talking to the woman on the porch. When the name was one he didn't recognize, Ducky leaned closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. "We are watching out for any more food from a Mrs Gunther. Probably a sweet woman, but seriously deficient in the kitchen."

 

Growing up with various nannies and boarding schools in his background, Tony always considered any home-cooked meal a real treat. "How deficient?"

 

Ducky shuddered as he recalled poking at the concoction of boiled chicken and canned ravioli topped with Spaghetti-O’s. "Beyond my ability to describe, my boy."

 

That made Tony blink and lean back. "Ducky, I thought you could describe anything."

 

"Until that – casserole – arrived, so did I."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Yet another antibiotic in hand, Breena returned to her car, Abby meekly following behind her. Breena didn't say a word until they were several blocks from the hospital, then she pulled over and put the car into park before turning to stare at Abby. Eventually, Abby finally confessed as she stared at the hand she'd used. "I hit Gibbs."

 

Breena nodded. "I know. So does Jimmy and Dr. Mallard."

 

Abby didn't seem to notice what she'd said. "He'll forgive me, I know he will." The 'I'm the favorite' was unsaid, but echoed through the car nonetheless.

 

Deciding not to pull any punches, Breena gave her a hard look. "Gibbs is the least of your problem, Abby. I don't think Tim will ever forgive you, not for a long time."

 

"Of course he will." Her voice sounded confident, but then it faltered. "Right?"

 

Breena shook her head. "Do you think I'd ever forgive you if you hit Jimmy like that?"

 

"But Jimmy is your..."

 

"Exactly."

 

"No, not exactly. You and Jimmy are married. They're just... they're just..."

 

Brenna didn't give her a chance to finish. "You don't even understand what a marriage is, Abby."

 

"Of course I do. It's where you commit to the same person for the rest of your life."

 

'No, the commitment comes first, in your heart. The marriage is just a formal acknowledgment. In every way that truly counts, Gibbs and McGee are just as much married as Jimmy and I. If you'd ever stop to look at them you would have seen it. But you have such a preconceived notion of how everything is supposed to be, you never take the time to look at any of the people you call friends."

 

 

"That's not true." Abby started to say more, then her mouth suddenly snapped closed and she turned away from Breena to stare out the car window. When she finally spoke, she didn't turn back toward Breena. "Tony saw it, didn't he?"

 

"Yeah, he did. It was a shock, but we all saw it."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Ducky pressed his stethoscope against Tim's back listening intently to the air moving through his lungs. Gibbs was silent so he could hear, but Ducky could feel the question practically vibrating through him. Not surprisingly, as soon as he pulled the earpieces away, Gibbs spoke.

 

"Well?"

 

"I will need an x-ray to confirm it, but I am hearing better sounds than I have since that first day."

 

"That's good, right?" Tony spoke from his spot, leaning against the living room entryway. Ducky smiled as he continued his exam.

 

"Yes, it is, Tony. Relieving the pressure that was limiting Timothy's lung function is allowing his compromised lung to inflate fully, or at least a great deal more than it was before. Now, Tim, how are you feeling, young man? And I want an honest answer."

 

"Better." Tim let Gibbs help him up from his reclining position to sit up straight. Once that was done, neither man let go, which made the others smile. "It's like a weight that I didn't even know was there is gone now."

 

"Excellent, and the pain? Is that reduced as well?"

 

Tim carefully moved, shifting his body around. "It's a lot better. I wouldn't want to chase a suspect yet, but I think I can get to the bathroom on my own now." He looked at the expression on Gibbs' face and corrected himself slightly. "Not that I'm going to try right now."

 

Gibbs smiled at him. "Good answer."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Tell me what you saw. You're saying that everyone else sees them as a couple, so tell me what you see when you look at them."

 

They were still sitting on the side of the road, but now Breena stopped the engine as she thought for a moment, apparently trying to put it into words. "Okay. Even through his grief, I see a contentment in Agent Gibbs that I've never seen before. When they're not physically touching, he's leaning towards McGee and I don't think he even realize it. It's just second nature to him to want to be as close as possible. Have you ever seen him like that with anybody else?"

 

"No, never." The admission was almost painful and Abby struggled to find another reason. "Maybe... maybe he's just feeling really guilty about McGee getting hurt."

 

"How does Agent Gibbs usually react when somebody gets hurt?"

 

"He gets mad." Her voice was almost a whisper as she realized that for the first time that she could remember, his fear and worry were more powerful than Gibbs' anger when something went wrong. It was how she'd always pictured his reaction to Shannon and Kelly's deaths. "What do you see when you look at McGee?"

 

This time Breena didn't have to stop and think, which told Abby a lot. "He glows. When Agent Gibbs is touching him or talking to him, he absolutely glows."

 

She'd never seen him glow, at least not with her, and she'd never seen what she would call a look on contentment on Gibbs' face. The closest had been a few brief moments of satisfaction for a job well done. She slowly nodded and Breena started the car as she expected. However, instead of putting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb, Breena reached over and opened Abby's door.

 

"Out."

 

"What?" Instead of the instant forgiveness she was expecting, Abby found herself being booted out of the car.

 

"I said, out." Breena pointed out the business they were parked in front of, the local branch of a car rental chain. "Think about it and make a decision. You can drive a rental back to DC or you can drive it back to Stillwater. If you show up in Stillwater, that means you're ready to accept the relationship between Gibbs and McGee. No doubts, no questions asked."

 

Abby's head was spinning. "But..."

 

"They're grown men, Abby. They don't need your permission to fall in love, but maybe someday they'd like your blessing."

 

The door was still open and the sales rep inside the building was getting restless so Abby silently nodded and climbed out. Breena didn't say a word, just waited for her to close the door before pulling away, tires squealing slightly as she did.

 

 

 


	25. Withdrawn

 

 

Jimmy heard the distinctive sound of his car and slipped out to privately greet his wife – or at least as private as it could be with another person there. However, when he walked up to the car, only Breena was in the vehicle. "Umm..."

 

Breena just smiled brightly and held up the bag from the hospital pharmacy. "Let's get Tim his new pills, okay?" He saw the slight brittleness to his smile and just nodded.

 

"Yeah, sure, okay." Jimmy wrapped his arm around her waist and they walked up to the house together. He figured that she'd want to explain Abby's absence just once, but he didn't know how Gibbs would react.

 

Tony was waiting just inside the door. "Do we need to send out a search party or a crime scene team?"

 

"We talked." Breena's voice was loud enough to be heard in the living room, but she stayed in the entry way where Tony had cornered them. "Then I dropped her off at a car rental with the understanding that she was welcome to come back to Stillwater if she was ready to accept the changes. Otherwise, she could just go on back to DC. She had to make the decision on her own, so I didn't stay."

 

"Fair enough." Tony seemed to approve of what Breena had done even as Jimmy could see the disappointment on his face that Abby hadn't beaten Breena back to Stillwater. Jimmy wanted to suggest that Abby would be there soon, but he wasn't sure enough to say anything. Ducky arrived from the kitchen having heard everything and smiled at Breena as he took the pills.

 

"Thank you, my dear. Would you fetch a fresh glass of water for Timothy to take his pills please?"

 

Not needing to be told, Tony and Jimmy followed her into the kitchen to join Ellie. That let Ducky be the one to talk to Gibbs, even though they were all listening closely.

 

Tim was awake but silent, sitting next to Gibbs as the other man slowly rubbed his back. Gibbs gave a simple nod to Ducky as he walked in. "She did the right thing. Abby... it's time Abby grew up."

 

Ducky looked at both of them, noting the slight guilt he saw on Tim's face. "Oh, I most certainly agree, Jethro, but it doesn't make it any easier." He handed over a pill and a glass of water. "Here you go, lad. Now, do you wish to continue to rest down here or would you like to stretch out on the bed for a while?"

 

"I... I think I'm ready to go upstairs. I'm really tired all of a sudden."

 

They didn't argue, but Gibbs and Ducky exchanged a look, both suspecting that Tim's exhaustion was as much psychological as physical. Gibbs didn't ask, either. He just stood with Tim tucked against him and walked them up the stairs.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Abby stood just inside the door to the rental company as she watched Breena disappear down the street. Once she could no longer see the dark blue car, she turned to the man behind the counter. "Umm, I guess I need to rent a car."

 

A clipboard was set in front of her. "Of course, ma'am, for how long?"

 

She started filling in the squares, stopping to pull out her driver's license and insurance papers to show him. "Uh, I'm not sure. I guess it could be until tomorrow, probably late. I'm not sure of my plans yet. Does it matter which location I return the car to?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Once he had them arranged on the bed, Gibbs tilted Tim's face up for a kiss, putting as much tenderness and love into it as he could. When they finally pulled apart, Tim reached up and touched the side of Gibbs' face where Abby had hit him. "I've forgiven her a lot over the years, probably more than I should have, but I'm not sure I can forgive this. That the idea of us together was so terrible to her... I don't want to make you choose between us, but..."

 

Gibbs tenderly stroked his fingers down Tim's cheek. "There's no choice involved. I'm not losing you. Either she accepts it or she doesn't. If she can't, it's her loss." With his other hand, Gibbs was kneading the back of Tim's neck, enjoying the way Tim was melting against him. "Sleep, Babe, I've got you."

 

Tim smiled and closed his eyes, the softly spoken endearment calming him as much as the tender massage.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Another refill, dear?"

 

Abby looked up at the waitress's brittle tone. It was starting to get dark, meaning she'd been sitting here for hours, still no closer to an answer. "Umm, maybe I'd better have something to eat." She wasn't actually hungry but figured she'd better spend a little more for the time she'd been in the booth.

 

The waitress looked a little more happy when she brought back a menu and recited the daily specials. When Abby agreed to the first special and handed back the menu the older woman gave her a knowing look. "How long are you going to wait for him?"

 

"Who?" Abby blinked, realizing that she looked like a woman that had just been dumped by a lover. When the waitress came back from putting in her order, she tried to explain. "No, I'm just..." She shrugged, not knowing exactly how to put it into words. "I'm not a bad person, really."

 

"Uh huh." It was a slightly positive, noncommittal answer as she wiped down the condensation drips on the table and Abby took it as a signal to keep talking.

 

"I mean, I love them both but they shouldn't be together, and to do it behind my back. That just means they knew it was wrong. Am I right?"

 

"How long ago did you break up with him?"

 

Abby didn't realize how much she had revealed. "It's been ten years, why? Wait, how did you even know I used to date... No, really, I'm not jealous." Even as she said it, she remembered what Tony had said to her.

 

_What's wrong about it, Abby? Is it because they're both men or because it means you won't be first in their lives for once?_

 

She knew that she couldn't convince Tony right now, so she tried with the waitress. "I'm really not."

 

The waitress didn't say anything so Abby kept talking to fill up the void. "I mean, I know I hurt him when I broke it off, but I'm not the kind to settle down and he wanted that, wanted the whole white picket fence thing. Gibbs has a picket fence... Tim likes quiet and reading books and Gibbs... Gibbs likes to stay home and be quiet in the evenings, too. They're both so dedicated to the job and both so lonely and..."

 

Abby's voice trailed off just as the soft ding from the kitchen could be heard, signaling that an order was up. The waitress turned to get the food. "It sounds like they were made for each other."

 

_made for each other_

 

_made for each other_

 

Those words echoed through her head as she watched the waitress adding a roll and butter to her order. Abby wanted to block them out, but instead a few other traitorous memories slipped in to join them.

 

_Even through his grief, I see a contentment in Agent Gibbs that I've never seen before. When they're not physically touching, he's leaning towards McGee and I don't think he even realize it._

 

_It's just second nature to him to want to be as close as possible. Have you ever seen him like that with anybody else?_

 

_He glows. When Agent Gibbs is touching him or talking to him, he absolutely glows._

 

_They're grown men, Abby. They don't need your permission to fall in love, but maybe someday they'd like your blessing._

 

Suddenly very unsure of herself, Abby looked up at the waitress as she returned with Abby's food. Wallowing in her own misery all afternoon she hadn't looked past the gray hair to notice the wise eyes or even the name tag. "Gloria? That was my mother's name."

 

The food was set down and the waitress reached out and squeezed Abby's hand. "Well, if you were my daughter, I'd say that being happy for them is the right thing to do. Enjoy your dinner and take all the time you need to think about it. We're pretty slow here tonight."

 

Abby whispered her thanks and picked up her knife and fork. Carefully, precisely, she cut the meatloaf into half inch squares and the carrots into quarter inch rounds as she thought.

 

_If you show up in Stillwater, that means you're ready to accept the relationship between Gibbs and McGee. No doubts, no questions asked._

 

How did McGee become the person that made Gibbs happy and how did she miss it?

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Mmm, that smells so good. What is it?" Ellie peered over Ducky's shoulder as he pulled the pan out of the oven. The cheese was golden brown and crunchy looking on the edges, the white sauce bubbling up in the gaps. Ducky wasn't sure so he looked to the man that had answered the door.

 

Jimmy had to close his eyes for a moment to remember. "Garlic Parmesan Chicken Lasagna Bake."

 

Tony was about to comment that as a good Italian boy, he'd always had lasagna with red sauce, but he finally got a whiff of their dinner. "Okay, not like Nona would have made, but change is good, right?" Thinking about the change to more than just dinner, he looked up at the ceiling, estimating where the new couple would be. "Are we going to let them rest, or would it be better for McGee to eat?"

 

Ducky seemed to debate with himself before finally answering. "It would be better if he didn't take the next round of antibiotics on an empty stomach."

 

"Okay, I'll let them know it will be ready in a few minutes."

 

Once he was gone, Breena looked up from the salad she was making. "How many places should we set at the table, Dr. Mallard?"

 

Every time they'd heard a car drive by, they'd all looked up, but so far they hadn't seen the return of their sulking forensic scientist. "That's a very good question, my dear."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The door wasn't latched, but Tony was still careful not to look in as he gently knocked. Gibbs answered just as softly so Tony pushed the door open slightly but stayed out in the hall. They were both still dressed, but stretched out on the bed, Tim cuddled up against Gibbs who looked very peaceful as he stroked his fingers up and down Tim's back. Seeing that, he stepped into the room.

 

Tim's eyes were open, so he addressed them both. "Hey, guys, food's on. You want to come downstairs to eat, or you want to eat up here?"

 

"Up here." Tim answered before Gibbs could say anything, then carefully sat up. Gibbs steadied him, then watched carefully as he left the bed. "Gonna hit the head."

 

Never once making eye contact with Tony, Tim slipped past him and then into the bathroom. Once it was just the two of them, Tony came further into the bedroom, a worried expression on his face as he sat next to Gibbs. "Was he this depressed before Abby's little temper tantrum?"

 

Gibbs rubbed his forehead. "No, not at all. I think he's waiting for the other show to drop."

 

That made a difficult and painful amount of sense. "I guess we'll have to prove it otherwise to him. I'll be back in a few minutes with dinner." Patting Gibbs on the shoulder and grinning to himself, Tony bounced up and retreated back downstairs.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Breena and Ellie were setting the table when Tony came downstairs. Ellie looked up with a hopeful look on her face. "They coming down?"

 

"Nope." Tony saw the flash of guilt that crossed Breena's face as she set down the salad. Despite this set back, he was even more convinced that Breena had done the right thing, not even wanting to imagine the impact of another confrontation would have right now. "We're all going to eat upstairs."

 

Ellie glanced over at Breena before looking back at Ducky and Palmer as they brought the rest of the food in from the kitchen. "Are you sure that won't be too much for Tim?"

 

"Maybe, probably, but I think it's necessary." Tony turned to Ducky as the older man was scooping up the hot noodle dish and filling plates. "Is Gibbs right? He said that McGee wasn't withdrawn like this before we all got here."

 

"No, he wasn't. If anything, he was absolutely blossoming under Jethro's care and Jethro was opening up in a way I've never seen before. I suspect it was in a way he hadn't experienced since Shannon was alive." Palmer had brought in the tray from the kitchen and Ducky started loading filled plates for them onto it as he continued to think out loud. "Apparently a delivery driver tried to use Jackson's death to trick Jethro into paying him a second time, but Timothy put a stop to that quite quickly. There was quite a – satisfied amusement – in Jethro's voice when he was telling me about it."

 

"Yeah?" Tony wished he could have heard about it first-hand. He added a small pile of salad to his plate before loading the rest with the hot food. Instead of sitting down, he grabbed a fork and a napkin. "Then we need to show them that we're really okay with them being together."

 

Jimmy had his own food and was hovering over his chair, ready to sit down. "What have you got in mind, Tony?"

 

"I, for one, am going to the mountain."

 

Jimmy looked confused, but Ellie picked up her own plate as she grinned widely. "Lead on, Mohammed."

 

The rest of the group followed behind and were almost to the top of the stairs before Jimmy burst into a smile. "Ah, Mohammed going to the mountain. I get it."

 

"Good for you, Mr. Palmer. As my grandfather would say, better late than never."

 


	26. Facing the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I'm back, at least for the week. As most of you know, I took November to work on NaNoWriMo with a new project. That did very well, then the family got together and bought me a new laptop for my birthday, which was great. (Okay, the idiot that designed Windows 8 should be hung up by his toenails, but that's a different story). Right after Thanksgiving, my world pretty much fell apart. I'm okay, just very stressed. My kids are mostly okay now (One wasn't for a while), and everyone has a roof over their heads at the moment (One didn't for a while). Most of it is not my story to tell, but good thought would be very appreciated. There's a real possibility that soon I will only have internet access during the week, but since I mostly post M-F, that should be okay.  
> Until things calm down a little, I'll only post either finished stories or when I have at least three or four chapters ready. I've got four chapters of this story done and the fifth/final chapter is roughed out and about half finished. The plan is that you'll get the four chapters this week and the last chapter on Monday.  
> Thank you all for the messages, they were a bright point in what has been a horrid few months, the worst since my husband died. Of course it all fell on the anniversary of his last few months of life, which didn't help at all.

 

 

_What's wrong about it, Abby?_ That question kept circling through her head. Both Tony and Breena had accused her of still wanting McGee, of treating him like her leftovers. She didn't, did she? Abby remembered how she'd behaved when he'd dated other people in the past and winced at how she'd acted. Gibbs, well, she'd always known that any relationship he had wouldn't last in the long run so she'd just quietly wait it out. Okay, maybe she'd be a little more needy in the meantime, but Gibbs had never complained about dropping everything when she needed something.

 

Honesty sucks sometimes and thinking about this didn't make her feel particularly good. Abby sighed and watched the waitress as she cleaned another table, but her mind was on another Gloria, her mother.

 

Growing up, people tended to forget that she and Luca could hear and they heard more than they wanted, at times. Especially those busybodies in town that believed two deaf people had no business marrying each other and that they certainly should not have brought children into the mix. Those same people probably also didn't know that her mother could read lips and follow a conversation almost better than someone with hearing and knew every word that was said about the family.

 

She'd asked her mother once, after an exceptionally snide comment, why she didn't fight back. Her mother had looked at her a long time, before she finally signed her answer. _We don't need anyone's permission to love, not the way your daddy and I love each other. She's a nobody, darling, and we don't need her in our lives._

 

True to her word, the neighbor with the attitude never crossed their doorway again. Abby sighed again. Gibbs would not tolerate any of them questioning McGee's place in his life, so she was going to have to figure out how to live with the changes for however long they lasted and why she was so unhappy about them. Decision made, she pulled out her phone.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs was waiting for Tim when he returned from the bathroom and pulled him close for a tender kiss to the forehead. "It's her loss."

 

Tim melted against him, soaking up the comfort. "I don't want you to regret this."

 

"Regret finding love again after all these years?" Gibbs grasped Tim's shoulders and pulled him back enough to look him in the eye. "Abby doesn't get to make those kind of decisions in my life and if she thinks she does, then she doesn't care about me nearly as much as she claims that she does. Now, let's get you settled because I hear the troops coming up with dinner."

 

They'd just managed to get the pillows rearranged to their liking when Tony came through the door carrying one plate. Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that, but Ducky was right behind him with two filled plates on a tray. Ellie came through next, also with a plate. Behind her was Jimmy with Breena taking up the rear. She had two plates, one of which she handed to Ducky after he set the tray down.

 

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here?"

 

Tony grinned at Gibbs' questioning words and climbed onto the bed to join them. "Yep, we missed you guys and want all the details." When he saw Gibbs' eyebrow climb, Tony clarified what he meant. "Well, not those details, but the rest. How'd you find the guy to buy the store and the house? What all are we bringing back home?"

 

Ellie sat on the foot of the bed, next to Tony, and speared a chunk of pasta, blowing on it to cool it off. "No, first thing's first. What's the deal with the casserole Ducky said couldn't be described?"

 

Gibbs looked around at his family, feeling Tim relaxing next to him. Ducky had claimed the one chair for himself while Jimmy and Breena sat on the floor between the chair and the bed. Ducky looked quite amused and the four 'children' appeared eager for storytime so, as soon as Tim started eating, he told them about Mrs Gunther and his father's first encounter with her signature dish.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"We've got company."

 

Following Tony down the stairs, Ellie looked out the window at his words. Abby was sitting on the porch, staring out at the street. "I didn't hear her knock."

 

Tony shook his head. It's not locked." He handed his plate to Ellie and prepared to go out but Gibbs shook his head as he came down the stairs behind them. Tony agreed, but stayed in the hallway just in case.

 

Abby didn't look up when Gibbs went out but she shivered when he sat on the opposite side of the steps. She finally looked at him, looked at the space between them and burst into tears.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

"For what, Abby?" His voice was calm, giving away nothing of what he was thinking, but there was no mistaking the steel undertone. Wiping her eyes she looked up, realizing that she was really going to have to work for this. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to find the words. Eventually it was Gibbs that started talking instead.

 

"See, the way I look at it, either you think I'm somehow not worthy of being loved, of having someone in my life who treats me like I'm the center of his world. Or, you think that the first person that touched me here," he tapped the center of his chest, right over his heart. "That makes me feel like a whole person instead of being consumed by the job and grief and guilt is somehow not worth of my love and I'm too damn dumb to know the difference. So, which one is it, Abby? How many years of being alone do you think I deserve?"

 

"It wasn't that." She was crying even harder, but when she tried to scoot closer to him, he held his hand up to stop her.

 

"Then what was it?"

 

"I didn't want to share."

 

"That's cold, Abby, even for you."

 

The words hurt but she'd made a decision. "I know. I realized something today. I'm nicer to strangers than I am to my own family."

 

Gibbs sounded exhausted as he rubbed his forehead. "Why, Abby?"

 

"I don't know."

 

They both sat there silently for a moment after that, then Gibbs slowly climbed to his feet. "You'd better figure it out, Abby."

 

She waited until he was almost at the door. "I will. I'm going to start seeing Dr. Cranston next week. I already called her and set it up."

 

"I'm glad."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Inside, Tony didn't even bother to pretend that he hadn't been listening. "Is it enough?"

 

"Promises are cheap. Let's see how her follow-through looks." Gibbs sighed once again and started up the stairs. "Don't let her sit out there too long."

 

"Night Boss."

 

He waited until he heard the bedroom door close before he went outside. He didn't sit next to Abby either, but he was a little closer than Gibbs had been. "Did you mean it?"

 

"Appointment's already set up, Tony."

 

"Anybody can fake a couple of hours to pass a psych exam. You gonna let her see the real you?"

 

"Is that the real me?" Abby turned and looked at him, her make-up smeared. "Am I really this horrible person that says things like that to my friends and means them?

 

"What scares you, Abs? When was the last time you were scared?"

 

"Things don't scare me, Tony. You know that."

 

"I think they do. I think there's parts of your life that scares you so bad that the only way you have to cope with it is to hurt the people closest to you." She was utterly still so he kept on talking. "You're nice to strangers because they don't have any skin in the game. You get snarky with Ellie once in a while because you're starting to get close to her. Me, I'm pretty good at letting your zingers roll off my back. So are Gibbs and McGee most of the time, which is good because they get a lot of crap from you. Especially McGee because you know he'll take it."

 

That got a little shrug out of her. Even Abby realized that she used him as an emotional punching bag.

 

"It's not about sharing them, Abby. It's about being a part of their lives because now their love for each other is more powerful than their willingness to be abused for your insecurities. Now you have to decide if your love for all of us is more important than those insecurities." Tony climbed to his feet. "Come on, it's late and there's a couch with your name on it."

 

Abby nodded and slowly stood, taking a few steps before she stopped. "Aren't you afraid?"

 

"Afraid of what, Abby?"

 

"That you won't have a place in their new lives."

 

Tony leaned against the wall and slowly smiled. "Actually, I think it's the exact opposite. They're building a life that I get to share in because I'm accepting it." Once inside, he pointed out the shorter loveseat. "That's yours."

 

Abby looked like she was going to argue for a moment before she finally nodded. "Where is everyone else sleeping?"

 

Ellie was already settled into her nest of blankets and pillows on the floor so Tony listed off the rest of them. "Ducky's moved up to Gibbs' old bedroom to give the master bedroom to Jimmy and Breena. Boss and Probie are up in the guest bedroom."

 

"Together?"

 

Tony just glared at her. "Well, that didn't last long. Thought you were going to try to accept them, Abs. Or at least pretend for a few hours."

 

"That's not..." Abby took a deep breath. "I mean, McGee's still recovering. Can't Gibbs wait? Ouch!" She rubbed the back of her head. "What was that for?"

 

"They're in a relationship, Abby, not friends with benefits. Maybe the first thing you should do is to learn the difference." Tony tossed a pillow her direction. Planning to let her sulk for the rest of the night, he laid down, facing the faded plaid of the back of the sofa. He heard, but didn't turn, when Ellie started talking to Abby.

 

"When Jake or I have a bad day, if one of us is either sick or hurt, we might not have sex, but we make love, Abby. We hold each other and take care of each other, especially on the bad days."

 

"I've never had a relationship, I guess. I thought I had, but I always bail when it moves past friends with benefits – unless they dump me first."

 

"Never?" Ellie sounded shocked and even Tony turned at that comment.

 

"Never, Abs? Really? What about Marty or Cade? I thought those were getting serious." Now that he thought about it, Abby had broken things off with McGee the second he started moving into the serious phase of dating. Apparently she had a pattern.

 

Abby had unzipped her boots and was sitting on the loveseat with her knees under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs, looking much younger than the forty-plus that her personnel files would show. "Marty broke it off with me."

 

Tony had heard about that through a third-hand, but very reliable source. "Because of the height difference, right?"

 

"He said I wouldn't meet him on his level but," she bit her lip and shrugged. "He wasn't talking about our heights. He wanted to get more serious, and I wanted to stay casual."

 

"But you were really upset about it. If you liked him that much, why didn't you want to take it to the next level?" When she didn't answer, Tony exchanged a look with Ellie and then took a guess. "Because you were scared?"

 

It took a while, but Abby nodded. "Yeah."

 

Ellie was braiding her hair and paused as she was tying it off. "Well, as someone who's in a relationship, let me tell you that what I see in them is the real deal."

 

"What if they don't last?"

 

"What if they do?" Tony gave her a hard look. "Gibbs has finally, really opened himself up to someone he loves and you of all people should know how deeply Tim loves. If anyone can make it, it'll be them."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Upstairs, Tim was already asleep, exhausted by the events of the day. Gibbs was drained, too, but listening to the conversation going on downstairs. Ellie's voice was too quiet to hear, but Tony's and especially Abby's came through the old walls clearly. Once they seemed to settle down, Gibbs turned his attention to the sleeping man draped across his chest.

 

He'd been worried that this might hurt Tim, but he'd just snuggled closer, rubbing his cheek against the coarse hair and closed his eyes. Gibbs finally closed his eyes and let himself drift off, enjoying the sensation of breaths against his skin.

 

 


	27. A New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, guys.

 

 

"Morning, Elaine."

 

"Tobias." She hugged him gently before pointing out a large box on one of the booths. "There you go. Now you give Jethro our love when you see him."

 

Fornell had been expecting a few pies but nothing like this. Mentally calculating how he was going to get it all in his car he pulled out his wallet. Elaine was giving him the eye almost as well as Gibbs.

 

"Now I know you're not trying to pay me for any of this. Jethro's family and we take care of family around here."

 

If Diane had taught him anything, it was when **not** to argue with a woman. Instead, he gently kissed her on the cheek. "You're a good woman, Elaine, and if Gibbs won't make an honest woman out of your, maybe I will."

 

"I'll tell you the same thing I tell Jethro. Get my husband's permission and then we'll talk."

 

Fornell was still laughing as he wedged the box in the back seat of his car.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Appreciate the ride, Director Vance. I hope this wasn't too far our of your way."

 

"Not at all, LJ, I was glad to do it and please, call me Leon. These are my kids, Jared and Kayla."

 

LJ looked at the two sad looking young people in the back of the SUV. "Jared, Kayla, sorry you two are losing part of your weekend."

 

"It's all right, sir. Mr. Gibbs was a really nice old man. We're going to miss him."

 

"Yeah, me too, Jared." He remembered hearing about their mother and guessed this funeral was bringing up some painful memories. "He was quite a man, quite a storyteller, too. I remember him telling me about the time he took Jethro fishing for the first time..."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Mmm, good morning." Tim enjoyed the sensation of chest hair under his cheek as he slowly woke.

 

Judging from his voice, Gibbs had been awake for a while. "Morning, how are you feeling?" He ran his fingers up and down Tim's back as the younger man thought about his answer.

 

It was definitely easier to breath this morning and the sensation of pressure was mostly gone. Tim shifted carefully and there was only a dull ache instead of sharp pains. "Better."

 

"Yeah?" They shifted enough that Gibbs could really look at him. "Yeah, I think your color is better today, but let's let Ducky take a look at you this morning."

 

That was a given and Tim knew better than to argue about it, especially with their favorite doctor right across the hall. "Yep, then breakfast and a shower." Feeling better made him a little adventurous. "You going to come wash my back?"

 

Gibbs gave him that smile that always made him feel warm inside. "Oh, I think I could be persuaded. Maybe wash a few other parts of you, too, while we're at it."

 

"Yeah? That sounds really good." Tim smiled as the strong arms pulled him closer and he returned his cheek to his new favorite living pillow. Jethro's lips pressed against his forehead and he felt the words as much as he heard them.

 

"Not much more than that until we get the all clear from Ducky, but I want to learn every inch of your body."

 

A gentle knock at the door interrupted Tim's answer so he pouted as Jethro slid out from underneath him. However, he did enjoy the fact that Jethro had to adjust himself before he opened the door.

 

Ducky was waiting and entered the room with a smile. "Good morning, Jethro, how is our young man today?"

 

Tim answered for himself. "Better, Ducky. Definitely better than yesterday."

 

"Excellent, Timothy. Let's have a listen then, shall we?" After a quick exam, he smiled and stepped back. "Yes, I do believe that you've turned a significant corner. However, that does not mean that you can push yourself any harder quite yet."

 

"Don't worry, Duck, I'll make sure he doesn't exert himself. Shower, breakfast and then a few hours rest before we leave for the church."

 

"And are you going to personally supervise that shower?" Not waiting for an answer, Ducky stepped toward the door. "Just remember that Breena will be fixing breakfast shortly – assuming that the two of you leave enough hot water for the rest of us."

 

Gibbs just grinned and shrugged before closing the door behind Ducky. He arrived at Tim's side just as he stood. "You ready?"

 

"Oh, yeah."

 

Towels thrown over their shoulders, the two men walked hand in hand to the only bathroom on the second floor. Once inside, Gibbs made a showing of turning the lock. At Tim's questioning look he stepped closer and pulled him tight to whisper in his ear. "Locks are only worth the bother if you've got something in your life worth protecting."

 

Tim's face lit up and he kissed Jethro. "I'm yours, all yours, and you're mine."

 

"Yeah, I am." Gibbs turned the water on and adjusted it before Tim dropped his boxers and stepped in. Gibbs enjoyed the view for a moment before following him into the shower.

 

Much like his shower at home, this one was bare-bones. A bar of generic soap was sitting in the soap dish, but a bottle of bath gel was sitting on the edge of the tub and Gibbs recognized it as the brand he'd seen in McGee's go bag over the years. Popping the lid open, it smelled just like Tim did first thing in the mornings.

 

After making a mental note to pick up some of those bath puffs that the ex-wives tended to use, Gibbs squirted a small amount of the gel into his hand. Adding a touch of water and a quick rub of his hands gave him a pile of thick lather. Starting on Tim's shoulders and then down onto his chest, he washed and explored, enjoying the wet skin under his hands along with the little sounds Tim was making.

 

Soon Tim, too, had hands full of lather and they were exploring freely, rubbing their bodies together. Not wanting to cause any strain to his still healing lover, Gibbs pulled him close and wrapped his hand around both of their cocks. "When we get home and you're fully recovered, we're going to take lots of time and do this right."

 

"Yeah." Tim was a little breathless, but he was still smiling. "Gonna learn all the ways to pleasure each other."

 

Gibbs smiled at that and brushed his lips against Tim's. "That sounds really good." He trailed one hand down over Tim's ass, stroking his fingers against the wet skin. When Tim ground back against his hand, his smile widened. "Yeah?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Then consider it incentive to get well." Gibbs ran his fingers across Tim's ass one last time, letting one finger slide between his cheeks. At the same time he increased his speed with his other hand. "Come for me."

 

A few more strokes and Tim did just that, Jethro enjoying the sensation of warm come dripping over his own cock, pulling him over the edge as well.

 

Shifting enough to let the water rinse them off, the two men kissed and touched each other as they basked in the afterglow. Eventually, Gibbs reached out and turned off the water. "Gonna have Tony in here whining about us using all the hot water." Tim just smiled in answer and let Gibbs lead him out of the shower.

 

After they dried each other off, completely and with a great deal of attention to every fold of skin, they returned to the bedroom and dressed in comfortable clothes. Today was the funeral and the grief could have been oppressive if it weren't for the new love.

 

"He had a good life."

 

"Yes, he did, and I think he'd be happy that we're finally together."

 

"Yeah, yeah, he would. Jack was always reminding me that it wasn't too late to start living my life again."

 

"And you deserve it." Tim cupped Jethro's cheek as he held his gaze. "More than anyone else I've ever known, you deserve every ounce of happiness and I want to be the one giving it."

 

"You already are."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony grinned as the two men finally arrived downstairs. "Get all clean?"

 

Tim blushed slightly but Gibbs grinned back and grabbed the coffee Breena handed him as they joined the rest of them at the dining room table. "Squeaky."

 

Abby gave Tony a funny look at that, but didn't say a word as she passed the platter of scrambled eggs.

 

"So what's the plan for today, Boss."

 

Gibbs waited for Jimmy to hand over the eggs. "Second church service starts at 1100. After that we go to the cemetery for the graveside services. There will be a community dinner back at the church about 1600, then we'll finish loading what we need."

 

"And drive everything back to your place tonight?"

 

"You guys will. Got a few things to take care of, so Tim and I will leave here Monday morning."

 

"Something we can help you with?"

 

"Nah, it's something personal." Gibbs wasn't one to really talk about himself, but with five curious faces staring at him, he relented. "When Tim and Ducky were going through some things they found out I had an uncle I never knew about, Jack's older brother. We're going to stop and visit his best friend, find out about him."

 

"Jack never talked about him?" Ellie hesitated, hoping her next question wasn't too insensitive. "Did they have a falling out?"

 

Tim answered, filling them in on what he'd found so Gibbs didn't have to. "He was literally one of the last sailors to be killed during World War II, actually a couple of weeks after the Japanese surrendered."

 

"Wow, that's so sad." It was the first time Abby had volunteered anything. "No wonder Jack never talked about him. How old was he when he died?"

 

"Nineteen by just a month. He'd had to have a parent sign for him when he enlisted."

 

"That's so young, and Jack never mentioned him?"

 

"Nope." Gibbs looked over at McGee. "If Tim hadn't checked through all the books that are getting donated, I never would have known he ever existed."

 

"Books? What did that...?" Tony's head swiveled around as if he could see the old bookcase through the wall.

 

"Bunch of letters, tucked between the pages of some very old encyclopedias. Even some old photographs – heck, Tim's found out more about my family and my childhood than I even knew." Gibbs held a finger up and left the table. They could hear him go up the stairs and then return a few seconds later, a framed picture in hand which he handed to Tony. "Look at the background."

 

Tony's eyes went huge. "Whoa, is that? It is. This is like the first photobombing ever." The rest of them were trying to lean close enough to see what he was talking about, so Tony turned the picture and held it up. "John Wayne. Look at that, it's John Wayne."

 

After everyone oohed and awed, Tony handed the picture back to Gibbs, who set it on the table. Abby stared at it, a wistful smile on his face. "I bet Jackson had the best story to tell about that. I'm going to miss his stories so much."

 

Gibbs carefully straightened the picture before sitting back in his chair. "I don't think Jack ever looked at the background and as far as the rest of Jack's stories..."

 

Tim saw the glance and picked up the narration. "The first time we met Jack, I told him he should write a book. Eventually he agreed if I'd help him put it all together. He's been writing and recording ever since."

 

"Is there enough done for you to finish it?"

 

He nodded at Ellie's question, noting the happiness on Abby's face when she looked at him. "It's not going to be quick. He wrote down things as he remembered them, but there's no particular order to any of it. I'll have to construct a timeline of his travels and then start plugging it all in. That's one of the reasons I went through the books so carefully. Jack bought a travel guide for everywhere he went, plus local history books, and he wrote notes in the margins."

 

"Sounds like a cross between a cold case and a jigsaw puzzle."

 

"Pretty close, Tony. It'll get done, but I'm not promising a completion date yet."

 

"And you're going to take enough time to heal, first."

 

"Yes, dear." It was so automatic that Tim obviously didn't realize he'd said it until everyone started to giggle. Gibbs pulled him close and kissed his forehead.

 

"Brat. My brat, and now it's time for a rest." Gibbs brushed his lips across Tim's. "And the proper answer is?"

 

Tim returned the kiss. "Yes, dear." The swat he received as he headed up the stairs was much lower than the back of his head, much to everyone's amusement.

 

Most of the team scattered as Ducky got them planning and sorting what would go in which truck, but they were all still close enough to hear as Abby questioned Gibbs.

 

"You're sure about this, right? I mean, he's my best friend and this is our team, and..."

 

Unlike when Tony had used almost the same exact words, it was tempting to question her interpretation of the term 'friend' but Gibbs wanted her – and the team – to understand this wasn't just some momentary weakness. "'This is our team', those four words are what held me back for years. Every time he had a close call, or someone hurt him, that was the only reason I didn't wrap him up in my arms, the team. But this time, after everything he did, how hard he tried to save my father... when it was just the two of us here and he couldn't even raise his arms to get undressed, I couldn't just turn my back: I couldn't hide from the fact that I love him."

 

Abby smiled, then she froze as a cold breeze registered across Gibbs' back. Gibbs turned while Abby stayed exactly as she was. "Leon, glad you could make it." They stared at each other for a moment before Vance shook his head.

 

"I'm here as your friend, not your boss. Come next week, don't let me see or hear about any problems. Otherwise, I'm perfectly happy to ignore any changes in your personal life. I have no desire to break up the best team at the agency." He looked surprised when Abby scooted out of the hall instead of adding her two cents, but Gibbs gave a slight shake of the head, stopping that possible conversation.

 

Gibbs nodded at what was being said, along with what wasn't. "Appreciate that, Leon."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	28. The Funeral

 

 

Sensing a need for privacy, Leon steered his kids into the kitchen, leaving Gibbs alone with his father's old friend. "LJ, I'm glad you could make it." Gibbs stepped forward awkwardly, not knowing what kind of reaction to expect.

 

LJ didn't hesitate as he pulled his namesake into a hug. "Wish it was under better circumstances. I thought that old coot was going to live forever."

 

Gibbs' voice broke a little. "Yeah, me too."

 

They patted each other on the back for a moment, then LJ pulled back a little. "Maybe some happiness came along, too?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, it did."

 

"Good. Jack would want you to be happy. Do I know him?"

 

"It's Tim."

 

LJ's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "Tim's a good man. I like him and I know Jack was fond of him." Turning serious, LJ leaned closer, squeezing Gibbs' arm. "Until about the time I left Stillwater, I was the token black man around here so I know a thing or two about prejudice. If he makes you happy, then just hang onto him. Don't let twisted, bitter people tell you how to live your life, okay?"

 

"Okay."

 

Patting his back one last time, LJ moved to greet the rest of the team. As Tony introduced him to Ellie and regaled her with stories he'd heard about starting the store, Gibbs shook his head. Like Jack had been, LJ was an honorable, accepting man and he also had a unique perspective.

 

Debating about sneaking upstairs to check on Tim, a soft knock at the door made the decision for him. Through the glass he could see black clothes, a white collar and a cloud of unruly white hair. Remembering back to his childhood, he opened the door.

 

"Reverend Parker."

 

"Leroy." The elderly man shook Gibbs' hand with a nod. "Thought I'd show you what the ladies have set up, before things get started with early services."

 

Gibbs grabbed his coat as he returned the nod. "Appreciate everything that's been done."

 

Outside, Gibbs paused when a familiar car pulled up in front of the house. Fornell rolled the window down without shutting down the engine. "Hey, I've got enough food from Elaine to feed an entire division of grunts. Where do you want it?"

 

At first,Gibbs was going to suggest he drive them the two blocks, then he saw just how full the car was. Instead, he jerked his head in the direction of the church. "Follow us."

 

When they were close enough that Fornell could see the church building, Reverend Parker waved him on ahead. "Parking is around on the back, son."

 

Seeing anyone call his old friend, 'son' amused Gibbs, but now that they were alone again, Parker was speaking.

 

"I have to apologize for not visiting with you sooner, Leroy. I'm afraid I was out of town, visiting at one of the nursing homes in Bloomsburg when the storm struck. My grandchildren are quite adamant that I stay off the roads until well after the plows have been through."

 

As near as Gibbs could figure, the elderly man had to be in his mid-90's at least. "That's quite all right, Reverend. Even we had trouble getting through."

 

"Looks like you've got a lot of people here with you now. That's good, Jack always worried about you being alone down there in DC."

 

Gibbs had to smile. "Yeah, I'm not alone anymore."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Making sure to avoid Vance, Tony tugged Abby outside. Shivering, she stared at him. What?"

 

"You're not going to cause any more problems for the Boss and McGee."

 

Arms crossed over her chest, she glared at him. "I already said I wouldn't, Tony."

 

"Good. Just remember, they could cause you a lot more trouble than you can cause them." She stared blankly at him so he elaborated. "You assaulted a federal agent in front of witnesses, Abby. Just remember that the next time you're mad at them."

 

The look on her face told him that the point had been made, so he kissed her cheek. "They're happy, that's all you really need to think about. That and they really want to share their happiness with the rest of us if we let them."

 

"Yeah, Tony, and I know you'll keep reminding me if I need it."

 

"Damn straight, I will, Abs." Satisfied, Tony pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. "Do we know anyone else that deserves happiness more than the Boss?"

 

"No, you're right about that."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Arriving back at the house, Gibbs went straight upstairs to change for the funeral. Tim was mostly dressed, his shirt unbuttoned and hanging open as he ironed the front of Gibbs' shirt for him.

 

"Damn, I meant to hang that up."

 

Tim finished and slipped the hanger inside the shirt before turning around. "It's okay. You've had a lot on your mind the last couple of days. I hung your suit in the bathroom before everyone started taking their showers."

 

Gibbs saw his black suit, now hanging out in the open, wrinkle free and freshly steamed. He smiled and pulled Tim close for a kiss. It felt good to be taken care of again – almost as good as taking care of someone he loved.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Established in 1862, Stillwater Community Church was the oldest building in town as far as Gibbs could remember. Mostly rebuilt after a fire in 1891 and then again after a second fire in 1947, the original design still showed through. Membership had waned slightly in recent years, but today the chapel was filled as almost everyone who had ever crossed paths with Jackson seemed to be there to pay their respects.

 

As each guest had arrived, they'd shaken his hand and spoken a few words. Some, like Chuck and Ed, didn't have to say much, he knew exactly where they fit into Jackson's long life. Others spoke more in depth, letting Gibbs know their individual history with the man that touched all of them.

 

The choir began to sing, signaling the start of the service, and the semi-retired Reverend Parker took over from his grandson, leading the congregation in song. His lips moved, but Jethro's thoughts were on his father and the many lives he'd touched. Jackson had a remarkable effect on the people he met, always believing in second chances and making sure the people in his life had that chance.

 

He looked over at Tim, sitting next to him, his own second chance at happiness. Despite what others may think, he was self-aware enough to know that he'd sabotaged his own happiness over and over. As the prayers started, he vowed to his father's memory that this time would be different. This time he would allow himself to be happy once again.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The one thing that would surprise those that didn't know Abby Sciuto well was how much she loved church. The singing, the prayers, the silent contemplation, she loved it all, but mostly she loved the individual grandness of each building. From the large, historic cathedrals, to the most modern, minimalist strip mall church, there was something about them all that she loved. This one was no different and as they waited for the services to start, she took in every detail.

 

She wished she'd been here in the summer, when the team had caught that case, several years ago. The stained glass windows were beautiful now, but she was sure they were magnificent when the sunlight was streaming through them.

 

As they waited for the service to start she watched Gibbs. Every time he started to look lost, McGee would gently brush his arm or touch his back, seemingly grounding the other man and pulling him back to the here and now.

 

There was one thing different at this funeral than at any other funeral Abby had attended. Instead of encouraging the mourners to speak, adding hours to the service and delaying the graveside service past the few hours of weak sunlight, stacks of paper and pencils had been in the vestibule. She had seen almost everyone there taking up paper and pencil for handwritten stories about how Jackson had touched their lives. Two of the church ladies were in the back, putting the letters together into bindings to give to the family. Abby penned the last few lines of her letter just as the service ended.

 

Abby watched as Tim stayed right at Gibbs' side, sheltering him, guiding him, but drawing him out when needed. It was something none of the rest of them could have done and seeing how easily Gibbs accepted that from McGee told her more than any lecture she could have gotten.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

For LJ, it felt strange to be back in Stillwater after so many years. A few people recognized him, mostly from the pictures Jackson had up in the store, but a few of the old-timers were still here and some remembered him from his short visit when he and Jack had mended fences.

 

At the cemetery, LJ had to close his eyes for a moment when he saw Anne's gravestone. The last time he'd been here, her burial was still so fresh that there was only a temporary marker. Silently, he walked up and touched the etching that surrounded her name. The tiny birds, in such lovely detail, made him smile. "You always were his little Chickadee, Annie."

 

Somebody had spent hours clearing the snow away from the gravesite, making enough room for about twenty chairs and space for more people to stand behind them. Only a few of the most elderly mourners, along with the handful of church women that were finishing up the luncheon, had not made the journey to the cemetery so the clearing was quite crowded.

 

In the center of the group were Jethro and Tim. That had been a surprise, but anyone that wasn't blind could see how right it was. Surrounding them was Jethro's extended family – his team, other agents and a few people he didn't know but obviously cared very much for Jethro and Tim.

 

It was almost like seeing Jack and all the people he had in his life and that made LJ smile as he wondered if Jethro knew just how much like his father he truly was.

 

The temperature was cold, but it was surprisingly warm around the grave as a few more people spoke and a military honor guard folded the flag. It was probably because of the folks all packed in together and the piles of snow surrounding them, blocking the wind, but LJ believed it was the spirit of Jackson touching them all.

 

As the last prayer was said, and the mourners stood, LJ made his way closer to Jethro. They hugged briefly, LJ whispering in his ear before pulling back. "Jackson was so proud of you."

 

Jethro's eyes were bright and he was blinking hard as he nodded. "I was proud of him, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I think I rewrote this a dozen times, probably part of the reason I stalled out for a while, but I kept coming back to not needing to 'hear' the preacher droning on, but to focus on the thoughts of a few specific people. I hope you liked it, tomorrow we move on to the dinner.


	29. The Dinner

 

Surrounded by food, Abby found she couldn't eat – not until she had talked to Gibbs. She had to wait while Fornell took a few moments to express his condolences, then the FBI agent went to find some food. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in front of Gibbs before he could move away.

 

"Abby."

 

He didn't sound angry, but there was a wariness in his voice that made her silently cringe, then rush ahead. "I get it now, I really do."

 

Gibbs didn't say anything, but the look he gave her said a lot and Abby felt her braids bouncing as she continued. "I won't cause any more problems for you guys, not at work and not at home; scout's honor." She held up two fingers, then added a third when she couldn't remember which one was right. "Because it's the right thing to do, not because of what Tony said."

 

His eyebrow went up at that, but he didn't ask for details. Maybe he knew, he probably did, but she wasn't going to fill him in just in case.

 

"Do I need to remind you of how many times you've hurt Tim in the past?"

 

This time the braids slapped her in the face as she shook her head. "That's over, I promise." Two fingers went back up – she was pretty sure that was the right one. "My first appointment with Dr. Cranston is Monday afternoon."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Tony and Ellie both wanted to enjoy the wide range of homemade goodies, but the nagging question of what Mrs. Gunther had brought was slowing them down. Seeing a few familiar faces, they crossed the room to where Carla and Hannah were mixing up more green salad. Knowing she'd understand, Tony leaned close enough to Carla to whisper in her ear. "What should we be avoiding?"

 

Carla gave a giggle, keeping it soft enough to not attract attention. "Don't worry, at church dinners she's in charge of the tea and coffee."

 

Tony turned toward the beverage table, sensing Ellie tracking with him. They watched as several of the locals poured cups of coffee before adding large amounts of cream and sugar. One man took a small sip, shuddered, and added even more.

 

"What do you think, Tony? Some iced tea?"

 

Normally that would be the last thing on his mind in the middle of Winter, but... Before he could say anything, Chuck Winslow stepped up to the table, poured himself a half glass of iced tea, then filled it the rest of the way with water before stirring in four large spoonfuls of sugar. They watched as he took a cautious sip before pouring some of it out to make room for even more water.

 

Tony turned back to Ellie. "I've never actually seen tea that color before."

 

"Me either. I think I'm kinda in the mood for milk."

 

"Yeah, me, too." Tony's head bobbed as he followed Ellie.

 

Carrying two glasses each, they intercepted Gibbs and McGee on their way to the coffee.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Gibbs stared down at the glass of milk he was now holding, a look Tony couldn't quite describe on his face so Tony quickly explained. "Mrs. Gunther made the coffee and the tea."

 

"Oh." That did explain a lot. Shrugging, Gibbs drank some of the milk. "Does that mean she didn't fix any of the food?"

 

"Yep, we're safe there." Ellie grinned as she headed back toward the main buffet. There were some meatballs there that looked pretty tasty and they watched as she headed right for them. Gibbs gave Tony a look so he stayed put when Tim moved to warn Ducky, Palmer and Breena to stick with water or milk.

 

"Boss?"

 

"Do I need to know what you said to Abby?"

 

The grin he got back told him he wasn't getting the full story and probably never would. "Nope, just reminded her of some of the facts of life."

 

"Uh huh."

 

Gibbs turned back just in time to see Fornell take a sip of coffee.

 

"Holy shi-" Apparently remembering where he was, Fornell clamped a hand over his mouth. Smirking, Gibbs handed over the remainder of his glass of milk and watched Fornell chug the whole thing.

 

"Hey, Tobias, don't drink the coffee."

 

"Now you tell me." Rubbing his mouth, Fornell turned serious. "How ya' doing?"

 

Fornell was a good enough friend that he got a real answer, not the 'fine' that the dozens of strangers had heard today. "It's never easy, but he had a good life, didn't suffer and wasn't alone in the end. That's about a good as we can get, you know?"

 

"Yeah. I heard that McGee was here checking on him when it happened."

 

"Damn near killed himself trying to save Jack, too." Gibbs knew he had a fond expression on his face as he watched Tim come closer. Much to his credit, Fornell didn't ask, but Gibbs gave him the answer anyway when he pulled Tim up against him and tenderly kissed his lips.

 

"Holy – you're bound and determined to make me swear in church, aren't you, Jethro?"

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Loading the vehicles was like an oversized, 3-D version of Tetris, so naturally Tony took charge.

 

"I hope you know what you're doing, DiNozzo."

 

"Of course I do, Fornell." Tony grinned as he and Fornell turned the hutch to fit it into the spot he'd made in Ellie's truck. When Fornell carefully looked around to make sure they were alone, Tony was pretty sure what kind of questions were coming.

 

"Better question, does Gibbs know what he's doing. This thing between he and McGee, it really came out of the blue."

 

Hutch in place, Tony leaned against it as he took a quick break. "Surprised me too, at first, but when you watch them together, it's the real deal. Nobody deserves happiness more than those two do, so I'm happy for them."

 

"You're not the one that has to break the news to Diane."

 

Tony straightened up and patted Fornell on the arm. "And for that, I am oh so grateful. Good luck with that one, Toby."

 

"I hate you, DiNozzo."

 

Tony just laughed and checked on the packing. Between Gibbs' truck and Ellie's, the big stuff was loaded while some of the smaller items and boxes filled in the corners. The rest were in the trunks and back seats of the various cars the rest of the group had driven. Gibbs appeared on the front porch and waved him over.

 

"We miss something, Boss?" Tony glanced around, not sure where else they would put anything big. There was still McGee's rental car, he supposed, but he didn't know how much more than luggage they could get in the small trunk.

 

Gibbs just jerked his head, indicating that Tony should follow him. They went upstairs, then continued on to the attic. When he saw what Gibbs wanted, Tony winced. "Not sure how that's going to fit."

 

"Jack's truck is in the barn. Once we turn the rental car in, we can drive the truck back to DC." Gibbs trailed his hand over the tiny shingles. "Was going to leave this to be donated, but it just didn't seem right."

 

Tony looked at the dollhouse carefully. "Jack made that?"

 

A nod.

 

"For Kelly?"

 

Another nod.

 

"Wow." Tony felt a little out of his depth here, something that rarely happened, especially when it came to Gibbs.

 

Gibbs gave a sad smile. "Maybe one of you kids will make me a grandpa someday."

 

That almost made Tony choke, but it brought up something else. "Tim's never been one of your kids, has he? You've always felt something different for him." At first he didn't think Gibbs was going to say anything, but eventually he gave a little nod in acknowledgment and a smirk.

 

"Very different."

 

"Okay, don't need that much detail." Tony grinned for a second and then turned serious. "You guys could adopt, you know."

 

That got another shrug as Gibbs picked up one end of the dollhouse and Tony knew to drop the subject. At least for now.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Vance was ready to leave first since he had to detour to take LJ home. After the elderly man had said his goodbyes, Vance shook Gibbs' hand. "You have more bereavement leave coming and McGee's got medical leave so I don't want to see either of you aboard the Yard until a week from Monday. Clear?"

 

Gibbs grinned at the unofficial honeymoon time they'd been given. "Crystal."

 

Returning the smile, Vance turned to McGee. "Take care of yourself – and him."

 

"I will. Thank you, Sir."

 

Fornell grinned and shook his head at Gibbs before pointing. "You, me, coffee when you get back. If I've got to face Diane about you, then you owe me a cup of the good stuff."

 

Gibbs almost felt sorry for him on that front. Almost. "Deal."

 

Once Vance and Fornell were gone, Breena held out her hand and Tim dropped the keys to the rental car onto her palm before explaining it to the rest of them. "She and Jimmy are going to return the rental for me so Jethro and I will just have one vehicle going home tomorrow."

 

Everyone looked very pleased at that, especially Gibbs. Ellie said her goodbyes next. She was going to be following Ducky, with Tony and Abby bringing up the rear of their little convoy. Abby would be dropping off her rental car, then riding the rest of the way back with Tony.

 

"It's been a long day, Timothy. Make sure you get a good night's rest tonight."

 

"I will, Ducky. I promise."

 

Gibbs wrapped his arm around Tim's waist. "I'll make sure of it."

 

"Good." Ducky gave them both a careful look and Gibbs nodded. "I'll set up a follow-up appointment for Wednesday or Thursday for you. By then, we should have a better idea of how your recovery will be proceeding."

 

Tim nodded, as Gibbs agreed. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't overdo anything before we get the all clear."

 

After a nudge from Tony, Abby hugged both men tightly, but didn't say anything, running to the truck when Tony took his turn saying goodbye.

 

"Keep an eye on her, okay?"

 

"She'll be okay, McGee. She's just had quite a wake-up call. It's not everyday that you face the fact that you're out of control. In the long run, it'll be good for her. Hey, I grew up. It's her turn now."

 

Tim hugged him tight. "Thanks, man."

 

Tony turned to Gibbs, grinning widely when he was pulled in for a hug. If this was what McGee was doing to the older man, Tony could get used to it. "I'll keep an eye on Abby, you take care of Tim. Okay?"

 

"Always."

 

Gibbs and McGee stood on the porch and watched as the convoy of vehicles went down the street and eventually around the corner and out of sight. Once they were finally alone, Tim sighed and leaned heavier against Jethro. Gibbs smiled and kissed the top of Tim's bent head. "Glad they were here, but glad that they're gone."

 

"Yeah." Agreeing, Tim straightened up to look him in the eye. "They mean well. Even Abby in her own twisted way, but I am looking forward to not having anyone underfoot tonight."

 

Turning them toward the door, Gibbs had to agree. "Yeah, still not doing much until you get the all clear from the docs."

 

"No, but we could grab a couple of extra blankets and sleep naked tonight." That got a raised eyebrow and as soon as they had the door closed behind them, Tim pulled him in for a kiss. "I want to feel your skin under me tonight and nothing else."

 

Instead of a verbal answer, Gibbs picked up two blankets from the stack the team had left on the sofa that morning and followed Tim up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With any luck, I'll see you guys on Monday with the final chapter. Just fair warning, it's getting big enough that I might have to split it into two.


	30. New day

 

 

Gibbs woke at his usual time, enjoying the feel of Tim against him, warm and sleepy. Their legs were tangled together. He could feel Tim's soft penis against his thigh and now that he was awake, the soft hairs of Tim's leg was making him very aware of his own. He laid very still, willing himself not to respond. It worked until Tim shifted, rubbing up against him and practically purring.

 

Biting his lip, Gibbs tried to pin Tim down without making the situation any worse. It took a moment to realize that Tim wasn't actually asleep.

 

"Brat." He gave the lightest swat to Tim's ass before rolling them so that Tim was under him.

 

Tim gave him a mostly innocent look. "What? You don't like waking up like that?"

 

"I love waking up like that. I also know we're not doing much until you get an all clear from a doctor."

 

"And then?"

 

"And then," Gibbs kissed him thoroughly before scrambling back. "We're going to spend the rest of the week we've got off figuring out how many ways we can nail each other to the mattress."

 

That made Tim grin and he made a show of holding his hand up to his face like he was holding a phone. "Hey, Ducky, can you make my appointment for the second we get back?"

 

"Funny." Gibbs grinned at him. "Now, I'm going to take a shower. You coming?"

 

"Oh, yeah."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Kissing and petting under the warm water made getting clean even more fun, but Gibbs didn't let it go any further than they'd gone the day before, they were just a little louder this time.

 

"You okay?"

 

Tim smiled and brushed his lips across Jethro's. "Oh, yeah."

 

"Good." Returning the kiss, he pulled Tim close as he turned off the water. "Let's get you dried off before you get chilled." Arms wrapped around his neck as Tim rubbed up against him.

 

"You could keep me warm."

 

Gibbs groaned as his body instinctively returned the pressure. "As soon as you get the all clear, gonna be more than warm." Forcing himself to back away, he reached out and pulled a towel off the rack. Securely he wrapped it around Tim's waist, giving him a pointed look before grabbing a second towel. Yeah, they were going to see about getting Tim in to see the specialist the moment they got back to DC. Otherwise, one of them was going to spontaneously combust.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"I'll go downstairs and get some coffee started." Jeans on, but barefoot, Gibbs pulled his shirt on as he left the bedroom. He was about half way down the stairs when there was a soft knock at the front door, so he made a detour. "Good morning."

 

Tom and Hannah were standing at the front door. "Good morning, Agent Gibbs. Hope we're not intruding too early, but we saw lights come on a bit ago."

 

"Yeah, come on in. I'm just getting ready to put on a pot of coffee."

 

Hannah smiled and lifted the pan she was carrying. It was covered with foil, but Gibbs could smell cinnamon and butter along with freshly baked dough. "Then I'm sure you'll be enjoying this."

 

Gibbs returned the smile and took the offered pan. "Thanks. Come on in."

 

In the kitchen, Tom took a deep breath and handed Gibbs an envelope. "Ten thousand dollars, as agreed."

 

Gibbs already had the papers drawn up and signed. He handed them over without even opening the envelope. "Clear deed and ownership papers. It's all yours."

 

"Thank you, it's still like a dream." Tom grabbed his hand and shook it hard before pulling his wife in for a quick kiss. "Gonna make Jack proud."

 

"I know you will." Gibbs looked up to see Tim arrive in the kitchen after, presumably, hearing voices. "We both know you will."

 

"Good morning." Tim joined Gibbs, snuggling into the arm that was held out for him. "You didn't have any trouble with your old boss, did you?"

 

"Nah, he was sad to see me go, but he totally understood. Said he'd do the same thing if he were in my shoes. In fact, he cashed out my vacation pay for me. Gives us an extra chunk of money to just hire movers instead of renting a truck and doing it ourselves. In fact," Tom hugged his wife, "Mom and Hannah are going to run the store this morning while I drive back and meet the movers. This time tomorrow we'll be officially residents of Stillwater."

 

Hannah was beaming at her husband as she told the rest. "Tom's old boss even helped us find someone to take over the lease on our apartment so we'll be getting our deposit back in a few weeks. Which is good because I think we're going to need more furniture." She was laughing as she looked around the big old house. Being an apartment dweller himself, Tim understood and had a solution to that and one other problem.

 

"There's one truck coming this morning for some of Jackson's books that we're donating to a veteran's charity, but another truck is coming this afternoon for the furniture and the rest of the household stuff. Why don't I reschedule them for later in the week? That way you can look through and see if there's anything here you could use. Even if it's just for a few months, it would give you time to settle in and decide what you want in the long run."

 

"Oh, thank you." Tim found himself on a receiving end of a very happy hug. "That would help us so much."

 

"I'm glad." Tim looked over to see a relieved expression flash across Jethro's face before he nodded.

 

"Good, glad we could help. Tom, let me show you where the business records are up in the attic. Jackson kept them from practically the beginning of time. Thought you might like to look through them."

 

Tim and Hannah watched as Jethro and Tom went up the stairs, Jethro making plans to ship the current records back to the store as soon as Jackson's last taxes were filed. Once they were alone in the kitchen, Hannah turned to Tim. "You and Jethro, you're together?"

 

"Yeah." They hadn't hidden it, but it was the first time he'd actually said the words. "Yes, we are."

 

"How long, if you don't mind my asking? I get the impression that it's new."

 

Even though he couldn't see him, Tim glanced up at the ceiling, instinctively knowing where Jethro would be standing up there. "It is. We've been ignoring our feelings and dancing around each other for years. Then when Jackson – well we decided that life was too short to waste any more time."

 

"I'm glad. From what Tom has told me about Jackson, I think he would have approved."

 

Tom and Hannah left as soon as Tom came downstairs, leaving the two men to their breakfast. As they finished, Gibbs looked around. Tim and Ducky had done an excellent job of helping him remove and pack up everything that was important to him. While not what he would consider important, the rest was familiar. He reached across the table and squeezed Tim's hand. "Thank you. I didn't realize how much I was dreading seeing the house empty until I didn't have to worry about it."

 

Tim just squeezed his hand back. "I know."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

The veteran's charity truck arrived for the books moments after Tom and Hannah had left and Tim dealt with them as Gibbs finished loading their truck. Now, cinnamon rolls wrapped up and Jackson's old thermos filled with coffee, they were ready to leave. Tim stopped Jethro, tenderly touching the side of his face. "Why don't I wait in the truck while you do one final walk through, make sure we didn't leave anything you might want."

 

Gibbs started to say that they had everything, but then he realized what Tim was really offering – a private moment to say his final goodbyes. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and kissed Tim's forehead. "God, I love you."

 

Tim pulled him close for a proper kiss. "And I love you. Take your time." One last brush of his fingers across Jethro's lips and he slipped out the door.

 

Doing as he was told, Gibbs started in the living room, walking through each room, remembering the brief, everyday moments that makes up one's life. One last time he touched every piece of furniture, opened every drawer as he wandered through the house and said his silent farewell to the man that raised him.

 

He took much longer than he'd anticipated, but Tim was calmly sitting in the cab of Jackson's old truck. Gibbs climbed behind the wheel. Once he'd closed the door, he pulled Tim to him and tenderly kissed him. "Thank you. You always know what I need. Now Harrisburg and then home."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Golden Acres Retirement and Nursing Home was a sprawling complex outside of Harrisburg. Condos for the active and healthy retirees made up the outer area, complete with gardens and shuffleboard courts, while large apartment buildings for assisted living made up the middle ring. In the center was a bright and well kept nursing home for residents that needed full time medical care. Gibbs parked in the visitor lot and turned to McGee.

 

"So, what do we know about him?"

 

Tim had done his research. "His name is Wallace Gainey. After he left the Navy he settled in Harrisburg and became a hairdresser."

 

That got Gibbs' attention. Back in the late 40's very few men considered themselves hairdressers rather than barbers. "Were he and my uncle..."

 

"I'm not sure. Like I said, he never married anyone – male or female – but it does make a certain amount of sense. Getting special permission to enlist early with someone wasn't unheard of, but it was still rare enough to be unusual."

 

It also might explain why the uncle was such a mystery, but that was left unsaid as they climbed out of the truck.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

"Damn, this is heavier than it was yesterday."

 

"No, Tony, I don't think it is."

 

"Palmer, just shut up and lift your end higher."

 

Breena and Ellie had helped unload the chairs from the dining set and the rocking chair before disappearing. Abby was quietly moving boxes, but she grinned at Tony's whine to Jimmy.

 

"Gee, Tony, do we need to get a couple of blonde cheerleaders for you to show off for? Would that make it easier to carry all that in?"

 

"Funny, Abby, real funny." They'd finally gotten the table through the door and into the dining room at Gibbs' house, so he stopped to wipe his face. "Wait a minute, do you know any?"

 

Before Abby could answer, two blondes actually did come through the door. Ellie and Breena dropped large bags onto the newly arrived table before handing out the coffee and donuts they'd brought back with them. Palmer kissed his wife while Tony stared at the bags.

 

"What ya' get?"

 

Since Breena had her hands full of Jimmy, Ellie shook out one of the bags and Abby picked up one of the packets to look. "New bedding? Cool."

 

"We thought it would be a nice 'congratulations' gift from all of us."

 

Abby was smiling, even if it was just a little bit forced. "We could get them some accessories to get them started."

 

"Oh, no." Tony set down his coffee, but didn't let go of his doughnut as he blushed and shook his head. "We are not buying Gibbs and McGee sex toys. Absolutely not."

 

Abby laughed, a real smile on her face this time as she picked up her purse. "If you say so, Tony. I gotta go so I don't miss my appointment with Dr. Cranston."

 

Tony turned serious as he pulled her into a hug. "Proud of ya' Abs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, split the chapter. Final chapter should be up on Wednesday.


	31. Full Circle

 

 

At the front desk, Gibbs smiled and pulled out his ID. "Good afternoon, ma'am. We're hoping to speak to one of your residents, if he's up for visitors. A Wallace Gainey?"

 

She didn't have to look at her charts. "Wally doesn't get many visits from strangers. Is there a problem?"

 

"No ma'am. He and my uncle served together. We're driving through, were hoping to meet him."

 

They were directed to a bright and airy room overlooking the gardens. A thin man with almost translucent skin and cloudy blue eyes was watching TV when they knocked on the frame of the open door.

 

"Mr. Gainey? You don't know me, but my name is Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

 

He turned and stared at them for a moment, then smiled. "Jackson's boy?"

 

Gibbs wasn't expecting the very elderly man to know who he was. Exchanging a glance with Tim, he walked into the room, Tim at his heels. "As a matter of fact, yes. You remember my father?"

 

"Yep." The nod was slow and thoughtful. "Came by to visit me a few years ago, maybe longer. I don't remember exactly. When you're in a place like this, it's hard to keep track of time." Before Gibbs could ask anything about that, he looked over at McGee. "And you are?"

 

Smiling, Tim stepped forward and gently shook the trembling offered hand. "Tim McGee, sir. I'm a friend of Jethro's."

 

"A friend, huh? Like Harold was a friend of mine?" There was a smile on his face as he looked at the two of them standing next to each other. "That's good."

 

One question answered, Gibbs moved even closer to Tim. "This might sound strange, but I never knew about my uncle."

 

A nod, but they could tell he was already tiring. "It was a different time back then. I'm glad Jackson finally told you. Harry was a good man, deserves to be remembered." Gibbs didn't say anything, but there was a sadness to the silence. "He's gone, isn't he?"

 

"I'm afraid so. He, he suffered a cardiac arrest a few days ago. The funeral was yesterday."

 

"Stillwater funerals are still on Sunday?"

 

"Can't interrupt the mine." They exchanged knowing looks before Gibbs continued. "We've been cleaning out the house and Tim found letters and pictures. That was the first I'd even known Jackson wasn't an only child. I was hoping you could tell me a little bit."

 

Wally shifted around on the bed, finding the controls so he could be more upright. "Harry and I, back during the war, most of the young men in town signed up to fight on their eighteenth birthday. I signed up like I was supposed to, but I got a deferment so I could help with the harvest."

 

Gibbs nodded at that. Even when he went in, helping on the family farm was an acceptable reason for a short delay.

 

"We," now there was an impish smile that showed dimples under the wrinkles, "got caught, if you know what I mean."

 

"Yeah, I think I do." Gibbs chuckled as he glanced over at McGee echoing grin. "Is that when my grandfather signed for Harry to enlist early?"

 

"Back then it wouldn't have been safe for Harry to stay there. Not with people knowing and news travels fast in a little town." The humor was gone from Wally's face. "Next night we were both on a train to boot camp. Turned out that having his dad sign him in early with me got us stationed on the same ship. At the time we thought it was a blessing in disguise."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Not a lot of privacy on a war ship, so we were real careful. Couldn't have any private time, but we could talk, sit next to each other at mess, those sorts of things. Then one day the Captain announced that the war was over, the Japanese had surrendered. Everybody was celebrating.

 

"We snuck a quick kiss in the engine room. I didn't think anybody saw us but a few days later, when we hit that mine... I'll always wonder if they could have tried harder to save him before they sealed the hatch."

 

Gibbs and McGee exchanged a look. He was right, there was no way to know and no way to ever prove it. Tim stepped forward and laid his hand on Wally's. "I'm so sorry. That must have been so hard, to lose him like that when you couldn't even be public with how you felt about each other."

 

"We had so many plans. We were going to move to California when we got out. Someplace where it was warm and we could see the ocean without actually being on it. Then he was gone and two weeks later, I was standing on a street all alone with a duffel bag on my shoulder and discharge papers in my hand."

 

"And you never went back to Stillwater?"

 

"Couldn't. My folks didn't want anything to do with me unless I showed up with a proper wife in tow and how could I face Harry's family? I traveled for a while, went to all the places Harry and I wanted to see, finally used my GI benefits to get some training and opened my own little shop. It might not have been much, but I was proud of it."

 

He stretched his arm out and pointed to a small wooden box next to some photographs. Gibbs stepped over to retrieve the box, taking a quick look at the photos on the table. They showed Wally in his shop over the years, along with various clients, both male and female. In all, they reminded Gibbs of the photos Jackson had had on his store walls. Gibbs carefully picked up the old box and brought it to the bed.

 

Wally tenderly opened the box and took out the picture that was on the top of the stack. Gibbs didn't even need to see the picture, just the look on Wally's face told him that was his uncle. "This is my Harry. We had three days of leave at Pearl right before our last tour. The rest of the guys hit the beach at Honolulu, but we headed to the far side of the island. Three days at Kahuku Point, there's a little cove a few miles to the east that's really isolated. We fished and hiked and at night we made love on the beach." Blinking back tears, Wally handed the worn and faded photograph to Gibbs.

 

Looking into the face of his long lost uncle was like looking into a mirror. Jethro always knew he took after his paternal grandmother in looks, and apparently so did his uncle. Put this picture up next to one of him during Basic Training and you'd hardly be able to tell them apart. The difference was that while Jethro was just starting his path at that age, Harold Gibbs was nearing his death.

 

"You look like him." Tim pressed up against Jethro, a warm reminder of living and being in the here and now.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I do."

 

Tim studied the picture over his shoulder and Jethro tilted his head enough that he was resting against Tim's. "When you shipped out to Basic, you looked just like the last time Jack saw his big brother."

 

He'd already made the connection, but seeing the physical evidence really brought it home. "Like I said, it explains a lot." He took one last long look at the picture and handed it back to Wally, who had the next picture already in his hand.

 

Considering Wally's advanced age, Gibbs didn't want to drag the visit out too long, but talking about the past seemed to bring Wally a great deal of joy. There were dozens of pictures of their short life together and they spent most of the day hearing all the stories they represented. When Wally got to the bottom of the box there was a thick envelope with Jackson's distinctive handwriting across the front.

 

"Jack brought this when he visited?"

 

"Sure did. I was so surprised when he walked into my room that day. He...

 

_"Good morning, Wally."_

 

_He'd been staring at the stewed prunes on his breakfast tray when the familiar voice called to him; a voice he hadn't heard in a lifetime, but it couldn't be Harry. Wally stared and eventually placed the face. "Jack? Jack Gibbs? It can't be."_

 

_"Sure is. Been a while, hasn't it?"_

 

_The last time he'd seen Jack he'd been practically a kid. "Damn, you got old."_

 

_Jack barked out a laugh. "You looked in a mirror lately?"_

 

_Wally had to give him that. He wasn't sure why the unannounced visit after so many years and slowly eased into a conversation. "So, how has life treated you? You're looking well."_

 

_"Can't complain." Jack pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. "I've had a good, long life so far. Not nearly as long as I wanted with the one I loved, but it makes you appreciate what time you did have."_

 

_He felt his breath catch and it had nothing to do with not having his oxygen mask on. "I know."_

 

_"Yeah, you do." Jack leaned forward. "I might not have been old enough to be part of the conversations, but I wasn't blind. You and my brother were in love."_

 

_Wally didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry that -"_

 

_"No, don't be sorry for loving him. Never apologize for loving someone. Love is precious, in every form, and there's nothing to forgive, Wally. I'm the one that's sorry, sorry that you two didn't get your happily ever after, sorry that your loss was never acknowledged by the people that should have been there for you, and I'm sorry that it took so long for you to have these." Jack laid a manila envelope on the bed. The faded marks from the Navy were still visible and Wallace Gainey was freshly written across it._

 

_"What?" He picked it up, suspicious as to what was inside. Sure enough, when he opened it he found Harry's medals and the official letter of condolence to the next of kin. "Jack..."_

 

_"No, Wally. If society back then was like it is now, you wouldn't have had to hide. What you and he had was as real as what Anne and I shared. Maybe it's seventy years too late, but I'm proud to call you my brother-in-law."_

 

Blinking back the tears, Wally laid the envelope and the box in Jethro's hands. "I've outlived my friends and family, Jethro. No one will mark my passing and I don't want Harry to be forgotten anymore."

 

"He won't be." Balancing the gifts in one hand, Jethro reached out and squeezed Wally's frail hand. "He won't be forgotten, neither will you."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

They'd stayed until Wally had fallen asleep. Gibbs had felt strange about taking all the photos, but Wally had insisted.  _Do you think I could ever forget what my Harry looked like? He'll always be with me and now I know he'll be with someone else, too._

 

Gibbs understood that more than he could ever explain and now with his hands full, they were stopping at the manager's office. 

 

"I heard Wally had some visitors today." She held her hand out and Tim shook it first while Gibbs hastily set everything down in one of the chairs.

 

Tim smiled and laid on the charm a bit. "Yes, we had a really great visit with him. We would have been here much sooner if we'd known the family connection."

 

"Family connection?"

 

"He and my uncle," Gibbs realized that he didn't even know how out Wally was in regards to the home, but the short, heavy-set woman put it together almost immediately.

 

"You're Harry's nephew."

 

"Yes, ma'am, that's correct. Wally said he didn't have anyone left, but that's not true anymore. I'd like you to put us down as an emergency contact and his next of kin."

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Information given, it was late afternoon before they stepped out of the nursing home. Gibbs was quiet, which Tim totally understood. They carefully tucked the box and envelope between their bags and climbed back into the truck. Instead of starting the truck, Gibbs pulled Tim close for a kiss, the first time he'd done that out in public. Tim looked surprised, then pleased.

 

"Jethro?"

 

"If you hadn't found those pictures and letters, I'd have never known. Wally and Harry would have been forgotten. Thank you."

 

Smiling, Tim kissed him back. "I'm glad we found him and I'm glad Jack made his peace with him."

 

"Yeah, me too." 

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

It was dark when they pulled into the driveway, but the team had left several lights on for them. After he killed the engine, Gibbs reached out and took Tim's hand. "Maybe we're moving too fast, but I don't want to waste any more time." Tim nodded, then smiled when Gibbs brought their hands up and kissed Tim's knuckles. "I realize you can't give up your apartment because of the job, but I hope, I really hope..."

 

Tim leaned close and kissed his lips as he stumbled over the words. "I want to spend the rest of our lives waking up together. I don't care if it's at this house, my apartment or a tent out in the woods. You're right that we've wasted enough time and I'm not willing to give up one more night in your arms. We'll figure out my apartment later."

 

They were so close that Jethro could feel the words against his skin as much as he could hear them. He returned the kiss. "Then let's go home." He opened the truck door and climbed out. Since their hands were still joined, Tim slid out behind him.

 

Up on the porch they exchanged a smile before Gibbs opened the door. They had no idea what to expect, but the house was neat and organized. The family dining room set filled the dining room, the old, battered table and chairs totally removed. Jack's chair and his mother's rocker were in the living room, the rest of the furniture shuffled around to accommodate them.

 

Most of the boxes were neatly stacked along the far wall of the living room with a note letting them know that the rest were divided between the laundry room and the upstairs hall. That note was in Tony's bold handwriting, while on the newly arrived table was a note in Ellie's more flowing handwriting.

 

Tim had Ellie's note in his hand and was smiling as he read it.

 

"Well?"

 

Smile widening, Tim looked up at Jethro. "Fridge has been cleaned out and stocked for us and the team bought us a housewarming present. Apparently, it's upstairs in the bedroom."

 

Gibbs wasn't hungry, especially when Tim turned and gave him a sultry smile. "Dinner or bedroom, Jethro?"

 

Yeah, he didn't have to think about that one at all. "Bedroom."

 

They went up the stairs, Gibbs right behind Tim, his hands on Tim's waist. At the bedroom door, Tim smiled at him over his shoulder and then opened the door. "Wow."

 

A striped comforter in shades of blue and gray was on the bed, folded back to show off the deep blue sheets. More pillows than Gibbs had ever owned were piled up against the headboard, but in his mind he was seeing them on the bed with Tim naked and draped over them. Judging from the smile he got, Tim was thinking something along the same lines. Before he could say anything, Tim turned and walked to the dresser. That was when Gibbs noticed the basket. "What's that?"

 

Tim held up the note, this time the writing was in Abby's hand. He started laughing and Gibbs cleared his throat to get his attention. Tim laughed again and shook his head. "Apparently, Tony nixed the shopping trip to buy us sex toys, so Abby went by herself after her session with Dr. Cranston. You know, she's really trying."

 

"Yeah, I think she is." They were still a ways away from all is forgiven, but her gift and efforts were appreciated. "I am also almost afraid to ask what exactly is in there."

 

To answer, Tim held things up as he identified them. "Let's see, we've got massage oil, lube, condoms, more condoms, another kind of lube – I didn't know they made glow in the dark condoms – flavored lube, and these." He had two butt plugs in his hands, one green, the other blue.

 

"To match our eyes?"

 

That got another laugh. "I have no idea."

 

Gibbs leaned in for a kiss as he took the plugs away from Tim, then picked up the massage oil. "After we get the okay from a doctor, we're going to try everything, but for tonight I'm going to pamper you."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Oh, yeah." Gibbs thought for a moment. He didn't want to get oil on the new bedding their first night – they'd never hear the end of it – so he folded the comforter down to the foot of the bed and tossed most of the pillows on the floor. Tim was still messing with the basket, pulling out what looked to be candles, but he was able to light them without a flame "What?"

 

"LED candles." Tim smiled and set several on each nightstand before turning off the overhead light. Between the candles and the hallway light, the room was cast in a soft glow.

 

"Nice." Gibbs had never considered his bedroom particularly sexy or romantic until now. "Get undressed for me, Tim. I want to watch you."

 

Never taking his eyes off of Jethro, Tim unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. Next, he undid his belt buckle, taking his time to remove it from his belt loops, rolling it up and dropping it onto the chair. Gibbs gave a soft growl and Tim smirked as he slowly undid his pants and let them and his boxers slide down his legs. Only then did Tim sit on the bed and reach down, freeing each foot from not only layers of fabric but shoes as well. Totally naked, he eased back onto the bed and settled in the middle with one leg bent enough to show every bit of him. "Your turn, Jethro."

 

Gibbs didn't take quite as long and probably wasn't quite as graceful, but he managed to not rip anything in the process, so that was a win. He picked up the massage oil. "I'm driving tonight, we're not going to risk your health doing too much before you're cleared."

 

Tim smiled his understanding. "How do you want me?"

 

"On your stomach so I can work on your back first and no touching yourself. Your hands don't move."

 

Tim did just that, upping the ante by shoving one of the thick pillows under his hips to raise his ass up and Gibbs felt his mouth go dry. "Damn." Tim didn't say anything as he spread his legs more, but Gibbs saw the grin. Up until now their sexual encounters had been standing up in the shower. Seeing Tim laid out like this, ass exposed and dick peeking out from the shadows of his thighs, was on a whole different level.

 

Gibbs poured some oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together to warm it up. He started at Tim's neck, rubbing and kneading, working every muscle. By the time he got down to Tim's lower back the breathy moans had him hard as a rock.

 

From Tim's hips he jumped down to start on his left ankle and work his way back up. Just short of Tim's left ass cheek, he again detoured, smiling at the groan when his hands touched Tim's right ankle instead of his ass.

 

"Jethro."

 

"Patience, love."

 

The endearment did the trick, stilling Tim as he basked in Jethro's undivided love and attention. Finally Tim's right leg was done and his was practically a melted pile of contentment so Jethro was ready for the next step. Lots more oil in his hands, then a hand on each cheek. Circling and rubbing, his thumbs moving closer to Tim's hole with each pass. Finally he scraped his finger across his target.

 

"Yes. Oh, yes."

 

"Soon." Jethro stroked his fingers over Tim's asshole one at a time, enjoying the reaction. "As soon as you get the all clear, we're going to do everything." He sat back on his heels, enjoying the view. Oiled up, Tim's skin glowed in the candlelight. "Roll over."

 

Gibbs had to move back a bit to give Tim enough room to roll onto his back but a few moments later he had resumed his position between Tim's legs and now had an even better view. Finally free, Tim's cock stood hard and straight. The pillow was under Tim's butt now, keeping his groin elevated.

 

Reaching back, Gibbs worked both legs simultaneously, enjoying every little bob and movement of the hard dick in front of him. As promised, Tim wasn't moving his hands, unless you counted the tight grip he had on the sheets. When Gibbs' hands touched the front of Tim's hips, he moved up to start on the muscle directly below Tim's collarbones. From there he massaged the front of his shoulders and chest, stopping just above his nipples, and then onto his arms.

 

Once he was done with that, Gibbs dribbled some massage oil directly onto Tim's nipples and worked them with his thumbs. He watched Tim's breathing carefully, backing off when Tim started to pant.

 

"Jethro."

 

"Shh, not letting you exert yourself too much until the doctors give the green light." He shifted a little closer so that his knees were pressing up against the pillow under Tim, then took Tim's legs and tugged him down a little until he was spread across Jethro's thighs.

 

More oil added and then Jethro leaned forward, lining his dick up against Tim's and wrapping his hand around the both of them. As he set up a rhythm Tim met him stroke for stroke. "I wanna move my hands."

 

When Gibbs gave an affirmative grunt, one arms snaked up around his neck to pull him close for a kiss. A few moments later he felt Tim's other hand wrapped around their balls. "Oh, yeah." He pulled Tim even closer and picked up speed.

 

 

\---NCIS---

 

 

Sticky and sated, they really needed to get up and clean off, but Gibbs was very content as his thoughts wandered. His life had changed so much in a week, he could hardly believe it. From losing Jack to finding love to finding family he'd never known about. Every step of the way, Tim had been there for him, a rock to hold onto during the storm.

 

Cuddling won out over cleanliness so he reached down and found his shirt to wipe them partially clean. It was enough that they wouldn't be glued together come morning. Tim hummed his approval and burrowed right back against him and was almost instantly asleep.

 

It was still a little early for Gibbs so he enjoyed the sensation of Tim in his arms, the tickle of breath across his chest. Tomorrow was a new day and for the first time in many years, he was looking forward to it.

 

 

~Fin~

 

 

No sequel is planned at the moment, but I expect that I might play in this universe again. Maybe a case that takes them to Hawaii and they visit Harry and Wally's camping spot? Who knows. For now, I'm working on the next two stories in the AALCSLT series plus the final story in the Stillwater Trilogy and a few other things. Thanks for sticking around.

 

 

 

 

 


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